


Now That I Found You

by Casloveshisfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A love letter to San Francisco, Alternate Universe, Bottom!Cas, Boys Kissing, Cas drives a motorcycle, Dean's POV, DeanCas Big Bang 2018, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Found Family, Genderbending, Healing, Homophobia, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Massages, Mentions of alcohol, Multi, Netflix and Chill, Police Officer Dean Winchester, Rimming, SWEET BOYS, Slow Burn, Soft!Dean, Top!Cas, all the fluff is here, artist!Cas, bottom!Dean, conversion camps, dcbb2018, destiel mixtape, ensemble chapters, face fucking, good old fashioned s-e-x, gratuitous weed use, hipster!cas, past controlling relationship, past trauma, so many blow jobs, team switch, these two are hot, they drink a lot of coffee, top!dean, vacationing together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 144,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16174037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casloveshisfreckles/pseuds/Casloveshisfreckles
Summary: After a nasty breakup, moving thousands of miles away from nothing but problems doesn’t seem crazy to Dean Winchester. Especially not when it means he gets to be closer to his little brother Sam, in his third year at Stanford.Dean’s out and proud and finally in a city that allows the life he needs. What he wants though, he finds when he meets a hipster artist named Cas and all the colors he comes with.Their broken roads merge during a coffee shop meet cute, and there's no such thing as holding on too tight if neither is willing to pull apart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Two adorable strangers in a coffee shop inspired me to write this, my favorite city in the world ended up being the perfect setting and a year later, I’m happy to share it with you. Hitting publish on this means a lot to me and I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Every place in this story is real. San Francisco has my heart and I hope this fic makes you love it, too. There’s a glossary [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing) and it has photos (some of my own) and links to the different places and restaurants mentioned in this story. Links to it are at the end of chapters throughout the fic.
> 
> And if you know me, you know this story has a playlist. You can find it [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw). If a song is referenced in the post, there will be a link to it at the end of the chapter. This fic was inspired by Jon Bellion's [Guillotine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2ymJcCwS_s).
> 
> Fic title is from Marshmello's [ Ritual](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEou0QBeHlk) which also became kind of a theme song for this fic as I wrote it. Both songs give me a lot of F E E L I N G S.
> 
> This story wouldn’t exist as it is without [Fanforfanatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanforfanatic). My perfect beta and more importantly, my friend who stayed up late with me while I worked out plot points, who knew my promo picture the moment I shared it, who told me every day that I could do this and that she was proud of me and without that, I wouldn’t have this story to share. So, thank you, darling. 
> 
> Thank you to my amazing artist Mariah. Her art is awesome so please, go give it some love [here](https://beesandbroomsticks.tumblr.com/post/178690922513/i-had-the-immense-honor-of-participating-in-the)! Mariah, thanks so much for being so great to work with! 
> 
> Thanks to the mods for another awesome year! If anyone needs me, I’ll be reading all the new fics and sleeping for a week! And of course, I’ll be on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/casloveshisfreckles).

Dean Winchester’s regular Starbucks is closing for two weeks. Renovations, Tessa says; like they really need a drive thru. She looks sorry to break the news as she hands him his usual venti drip with a pump of vanilla. 

He likes this store because it’s on the way to work and the girls know him well enough to have his coffee ready when they see Dean pull up in the Impala. Sometimes Tessa throws in a scone with his coffee, and once she even put her phone number on his cup. Dean let her down gently because she reminds him of his ex, Lisa. Using the excuse he’s still getting settled and not ready to date sounded a lot less crazy.

With Sam at Stanford, moving to San Francisco seemed like the obvious choice, anyway. 

Leaving Lawrence was easy after he found Lisa in bed with his former partner and supposed friend Cole. All that was left for him were lies, betrayal, and the fact that everyone in town knew him and every single fucked up thing that happened between him and Lisa. Word got out that Lisa found him boring (he thinks he has Cole to thank for that tidbit of gossip, considering she screamed it at him when she was scrambling to put her clothes on) and he couldn’t stand the pitying looks everyone was giving him around town.

Dean didn't think preferring to stay in and watch Netflix instead of going to some shitty club every night meant he was boring but what the fuck did he know? 

Dean needed out and putting eighteen hundred miles between him and his past didn't sound too crazy when he thought about it. The San Francisco PD hired him without hesitation, his four years in the Army and almost as many on the force in Lawrence speaking for themselves. Dean’s proud of his clean service record. 

Finding an apartment proved more difficult, and he ended up renting out an Airbnb while he searched. Everyone at work knew he was looking and one of his buddies had an aunt moving to Oregon. As soon as her place became available, Dean paid the first and last month's rent and finally had somewhere to live. 

He likes living in The Castro. The neighborhood is small and lively. Pride flags hang outside every business and in the windows and off the balconies of most homes. Being bisexual in Lawrence, Kansas was never kosher but here, Dean can hang his own flag without shame.

Everything Dean needs is within walking distance, another reason he likes living here. He lives above a Walgreens, the closest bodega is on the corner, his gym a few blocks away, there are bars and restaurants everywhere, and a coffee shop on every corner. He figures it can’t hurt to try as many as he can while his Starbucks is closed. 

That day’s choice is the coffee shop under his gym, Weaver’s. He likes their logo—an angel holding a coffee cup—and every time they’re roasting their beans, it makes his gym smell heavenly. They’re brewing their Pride blend the first morning he stops in, coming straight down from the gym. Dean takes in the crowd, noticing quite a few people parked with their laptops and mugs of coffee and plates of food. He orders a large coffee and a breakfast sandwich and heads back home to get ready for work. 

So far, Weaver’s has the best coffee and their convenient location has them in the running for his new morning stop. Dean goes back the next day, deciding to drive so he can go straight to work. Weaver’s parking lot is big enough to fit the Impala so they earn extra points for that. He works out, showers, and puts on his uniform, throwing his gym bag into the car before he heads back inside for his coffee. 

Dean still has an hour before he has to be at work so he grabs an empty barstool while he waits for his bagel, pulling out his battered copy of Slaughterhouse Five. The barista brings over his food, and Dean settles in to enjoy his morning. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A deep baritone pulls his attention away from his book. Dean glances up, only to be met with the bluest eyes he has ever seen, framed by black square rimmed glasses being worn by one of the most gorgeous men Dean has ever laid eyes on. Dark stubble lines his strong jaw and Dean wants to rub his face on it.  _ Okay, where the fuck did that come from? _ He blinks, trying to clear his thoughts. 

“Uh, sure man. Have a seat.” He gestures at the empty barstool next to him. The beautiful man drops his messenger bag on the countertop with a gruff thanks before he goes to the counter to order. 

Dean uses the opportunity to check the guy out. 

Hot stranger is wearing tight, black skinny jeans, and he has a great ass. His thighs are so thick, Dean imagines he has trouble getting those pants on. He kinda wants the guy to wrap those thighs around his head. 

_ Jesus, what the fuck is his problem?  _

He does some quick math and realizes it’s been a few months since he got laid. Huh. That explains that. 

The guy is wearing a tight, blue, long sleeve shirt and a light grey beanie, a tuft of dark hair sticking out of the top. Black combat boots and a black scarf finish his look. Dean is still staring when hot stranger turns, one eyebrow raised once he notices Dean’s eyes on him. He grins as he drops into his seat and Dean feels his mouth go dry. 

“How’re we doing this morning, Officer—” he glances at Dean’s nameplate, “—Winchester?”

Dean clears his throat, feeling hot under his uniform, knowing his blush is creeping up his neck. 

“It's great—I'm fine.” Dean coughs. Fuck, what is his  _ problem _ ? He shakes his head, trying to clear the unexpected haze brought on by Hot Guy. He’s an officer of the law for fucks sake.  _ Get it together, Winchester.  _

“Uh, how are you?” He watches as the guy pulls a sketchbook and a pencil out of his bag, flipping to a blank page before glancing back at Dean. 

“Better, now.” Dean flushes as the guys eyes roam up and down his body, wanting Dean to know he’s looking. “Never seen you here before, and I’d remember you,” his eyes dance. “Officer.” 

Dean can’t remember the last time another person flirted with him, let alone someone so hot. He had moves at some point in his life and he tries to remember them now. 

“So, you come here a lot?” 

_ You come here often? That's your line? Idiot.  _

“I do. I live a block away.” He leans in like he has a secret to tell. “Plus, Weavers is the best in the Castro. Their cold brew is amazing.” 

“I'll have to order that next time.” Dean shifts in his seat; the gaze from the man is intense and Dean's mind is in overdrive. 

The guy gives him a sly smile. “What brings you here?”

Having him so close makes Dean’s pulse race. He smells good, smokey with a hint of citrus. Dean wants to bury his face in the long curve of his neck and just breathe him in. “Place I’ve been going is closed for renovations.” He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. “I just moved in a few blocks away and my gym is upstairs so, uh, this seemed like a good place to check out.” 

The barista chose that moment to drop off the guy’s order and Dean takes a minute to breathe. He doesn’t get long, hot guy turning his attention back on Dean once the barista walked away.

“Where was home, before San Francisco?” He watches as the guys lips wrap around the straw in his iced coffee. Dean licks his own lips and blushes when the guy’s mouth curves up into a smile, straw still between his teeth. He drags his eyes up, guilty that he’s being so obvious. 

Dean gets a wink for his trouble. 

“Kansas. I just moved here from Kansas.” Dean knows the Midwest has a reputation and people usually aren’t wrong about it which is why he isn’t surprised when the guy chuckles. 

“Ah, another transplant. I’m from Illinois myself. I hated it. Moved West the first chance I got.” He’s drawing on his sketch pad and now Dean is distracted by his long fingers moving across the page, the pencil gripped tight between them. He hums and looks down at his book, at the floor, anywhere else. 

That earns him another chuckle. 

They sit quietly and Dean tries to concentrate on his book.  He reads the same paragraph four times before he gives up and checks his watch, only to see he’s gotta go.  Dean knows he’ll be kicking himself if he doesn’t at least ask for the guys number but before Dean gets a chance, the guy stands. He looks at his phone and tries to ignore the man while he rips out the page he was drawing on and packs his stuff back into his bag. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean can see him stretch to sling the bag over his shoulders, his shirt riding up to expose a strip of tan skin that Dean wants nothing more than to get his mouth on. 

_ Fuck it. _

Dean takes a deep breath and turns but stops short, unable to speak because gorgeous blue eyes are already on him and the guy is smiling. He pushes the now folded piece of sketch paper towards Dean, winking as he turns to go. 

“You stay safe out there, Officer.” The guy looks over his shoulder with a grin. “And welcome to the neighborhood.”

He’s out the door before Dean can even respond. Snatching up the paper, he looks around before he unfolds it, his lips twitching with anticipation. 

Drawn inside is a sketched portrait of him, looking down at his book, a small smile playing at his lips. The whole time Dean was staring at his hands and trying not to be obvious, the guy was drawing him and damn, he’s  _ good _ . Dean’s eyes roam over the drawing and his breath hitches when he reaches the bottom of the page. 

_ Cas - (415) 337-8435 _


	2. Chapter 2

Dean paces. He’s usually good at making decisions but when he can’t quite decide, he paces. It used to drive Lisa crazy, Sam too, but Dean has found that when he’s idle, his thoughts race and he has trouble focusing.

He’s pacing now, his cell in one hand and the drawing—Cas’ drawing—in the other. Dean’s been out of the game for a while so he’s not sure what the protocol is here, anymore. The guy gave him his number, so he’s expecting Dean to call but how soon? It’s only been two days and the phone number has been burning a hole in his pocket. He’s been back to Weaver’s every morning but hasn’t seen Cas again.

Dean’s surprised at how disappointed he is over it.

Now it’s his day off and he doesn’t even have work to distract him so—he’s pacing.

He’s just going to call. How bad can it be? But what if this is Cas’ move? Draw a quick sketch of a stranger and scribble his number on the bottom of the page. It’s a good move, hell, it’s working on Dean. What if Cas does it so often he won’t even remember who he used it on?

He’s halfway across his living room when he decides not to call. Yeah, he’s not making an ass of himself for this guy. Dean gets to his window and looks out over Castro Street, watching a nice looking couple walk their dog towards the theater. They’re laughing and holding hands and Dean feels a little pang in his chest. He drags a hand over his mouth.

_Fuck it._

He’s gonna call. Why the fuck not? Maybe he’ll get a little action and if Cas doesn’t remember him, then he’s no worse off than he is now. Yeah, Dean’s gonna call.

The phone rings in his hand and a picture of Sam comes on the screen, his long hair in two pigtails sticking straight up. He’s flipping off the camera and scowling. The last time Sam came up to see Dean, they got stupid drunk and subsequently, did some hair styling and picture taking. Since Sam usually lets Dean do whatever he wants, the pictures never got deleted.

Dean stops his pacing and is smiling when he answers. “Sup, Sasquatch?”

“Dean? You sound out of breath.” Dean can practically hear Sam’s forehead wrinkle. “Are you at the gym?”

“What? No dude, I’m home. Already hit the gym this morning.” And the coffee shop with no sign of Cas.

“What’s wrong then? Are you burning a hole in your living room floor?” Now Dean can hear the smug look on his brother’s face.

“Screw you, Sam.” Dean hates that Sam knows him so well. “I’m not pacing.”

“Liar.”

“You called me, what do you want?”

“Can’t I call my big brother to make sure he’s doing ok?”

Dean falls back into the couch with a huff and an eye roll. “You can but you usually don’t. So, spill.”

“I heard you got a number this week.” Dean fucking knew it. Jesus, his little brother is transparent.

“Fucking Charlie.”

Sam cackles. “Fucking Charlie, indeed.”

The same day he met Cas, Dean also had lunch with his best friend Charlie. She works IT and on Dean’s second day on the job, she took him out for cheeseburgers. They became fast friends after that. Unfortunately for Dean, she took to Sam when he introduced them too.

Dean let it slip at lunch about Cas so he shouldn’t be surprised that Sam already knew. Little gossips. He’s more surprised Sam waited two days to call him and snoop.

“So, have you done anything with the number?” He can hear a plastic wrapper and a crunch while Sam waits for him to respond.

“Dude, do you have to eat every time you call me?”

Sam’s eye roll is audible. “I didn’t have breakfast, Dean.”

“You gotta take better care of yourself, Sammy. Skipping breakfast is a big no no.”

“Ok, mom, I’m fine. Now are you gonna tell me about this guy or what?”

Jesus, did Charlie tell Sam everything? Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “Not much to tell. We met when I was getting my coffee and he gave me his number.”

“Yeah, on a _drawing_ of you. That’s a smooth move.” Apparently she _did_ tell Sam everything. Charlie swooned when Dean showed her the sketch.

He looked down at it, still in his other hand. It _was_ pretty fucking awesome.

He must have been staring at it a beat too long because Sam is making an irritated noise at him. Dean makes him wait a little longer.

“Yeah man, it was a good move.” Dean’s not giving up shit on this one.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst!”

“Ok, keep your antlers on.” Dean grins. “I haven't called him yet, no.”

“Why the hell not, Dean? Charlie said you thought he was hot!”

Dean’s never speaking to Charlie again.

“You two getting together and dishing about me while you do each other’s nails or what?”

“Actually, we were defending our target point on Overwatch.”

“And you can’t think of anything better to talk about?”

“Nope!”

“Nerds.” Dean smiles fondly. His brother and best friend might be giant dorks but they’re his giant dorks. “And for your information Samuel, I was thinking about calling him today.”

“That explains the pacing.”

Dean hates his brother.

He pushes himself off the couch and grabs a beer from the fridge. “I dunno man, it’s been a long time since I’ve had to do this, you know? I don’t know what the rules are anymore.”

“All right, grandpa.” Dean scowls, looks at his phone and considers punching the end call button. Sam’s still talking. “If you’re too chicken shit to call the guy, send him a text. It’s what the cool kids are doing.”

That doesn’t sound right. Texting is so—impersonal. Dean hates it and it’s not just because he doesn’t know how to use the little pictures that Charlie is always sending him.

“Texting sucks. At least if I call, I can tell by the sound of his voice if he remembers me or not. And if he doesn’t answer, I can forget about all of this.”

“You think he’s hot, he thinks you’re hot. This isn’t rocket science, Dean. Just call the guy.” Sam sounds annoyed with him and Dean wonders when he got so smart.

“What do you know about it, anyway? You’re texting a lot of girls you like or what?”

Sam gets quiet—finally—which raises Dean’s suspicions immediately.

“Ooh oh boy, what do we have here? Do _you_ have anything to share with the class, Sammy?”

“Maybe,” Sam mumbles and Dean has to tell him to speak up. “Been talking to a girl in my English lit class.”

“Oh, really? How come I haven’t heard about this?” Dean’s interested now.

“Charlie didn’t tell you?”

He frowns. “Clearly, the gossip mill doesn’t work both ways. I need to have a talk with that girl.”

Sam laughs. “Her name is Sarah, and she’s an Art History major. And she’s great at texting.”

“Wow, Sam, real romantic.” He takes a drink of his beer. “Have you taken her out?”

“We met for coffee a few times before class.” Dean can tell Sam doesn’t want to talk about this so of course it’s all they’re gonna discuss.

“Time to take her on a proper date, buddy. Flowers, tablecloths, the whole nine. Come on, make me proud.”

“Says the guy too scared to call the hot coffee shop artist.”

“Point. Tell you what—you ask Sarah out on a real date and I’ll call Cas. Deal?”

“You got yourself a deal, jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean smiles and misses his brother a little, despite the fact that they had lunch last week. “Wanna do something on Sunday? I can pick you up.”

“Sure Dean, that sounds good. Talk soon.”

They hang up and Dean takes a deep breath. He punches in Cas’ number and hits call before he loses his nerve. The phone rings once, twice, and goes to voicemail.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fine._

Dean opens his messaging app and taps his phone against his forehead, hoping something witty comes to him.

**Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?**

No.

**Are your legs tired? Because you’ve been runnin’ through my mind all day.**

Hell no.

 **How** **_you_ ** **doin’?**

Dean shakes his head at himself because apparently, he’s a thirteen-year-old girl now. 

**< <Hey Cas, this is Dean.**

May as well keep to the classics.

**> >Dean?**

**< <Uh, Officer Winchester?**

Dean’s phone rings in his hand, Cas’ name glowing from the screen after Dean programmed it in. Might as well be optimistic. Dean chugs the rest of his beer before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Officer.” Fuck, Dean had almost forgotten how gravelly Cas’ voice is. His stomach flips in response to it.

“Sorry I didn’t answer before.” Dean can hear music in the background, a rhythmic bass that doesn’t sound familiar to him. “I rarely pick up numbers I don’t recognize.”

“Really? Then why do you hand out your phone number to strangers?” Dean hopes he sounds flirty but fuck if he can tell.

Cas laughs so it must have worked. “Good point. I gave you my number because I was hoping you wouldn’t stay one—a stranger, that is.” Dean swallows thickly. “Plus, most people text these days.”

_Damn it, Sam._

“That’s what I keep hearing.” The music hasn’t stopped and Dean wonders if he’s interrupting anything. “If you’re busy, I can call back? Didn’t mean to—”  

“Oh, sorry, is the music too loud? Hang on.” Dean hears the music shut off and a far off “What the hell!” from someone in the room. He hears Cas respond, “Oh shut up Gabriel, give me a moment!”

“Ooh is it the hot cop?” The other voice is closer to the phone now and Dean’s face heats up.

“Would you please shut the fuck up,” Cas sounds muffled. Dean smothers a laugh.

He comes back clear. “My apologies, Dean.” Dean hears rustling on the line. “Do you have any brothers?”

Dean grins. “Yup, one.”

“Then you know.”

“Yeah, man, I get it. You’re sure you don’t want me to call back later?” Dean really doesn’t want to call back later.

“No, no, we’re free to talk now.”

A thrill runs through Dean and he settles back into the couch. “Great. So… I was a little afraid you wouldn’t remember me.”

“How could I forget you?” Cas huffs out a laugh.

“Aw, I bet you say that to all the cops in town.”

“Just the really hot ones.”

_Fuck._

“And the ones trying to give me a ticket.”

Dean barks out a laugh. “Oh yeah? Does that work out for you a lot?”

“You tell me. Would it work if you were writing me a ticket?” The teasing lilt in Cas’ voice makes Dean feel warm all over.

“A little public indecency? I might let you slide.” _Mother fuck did he really just say that?_

Cas takes a sharp breath, letting it out in a breathy laugh. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He clears his throat. “So, Dean. Maybe we can discuss more criminal charges I can charm my way out of over dinner tomorrow?”

Straight and to the point. Dean’s here for it. “The list is long, so it’s probably best we get started.”

“Is that so? The way you’re talking, this might take several dinners to sort out.”

“Maybe, if I’m lucky.” _Oh, well played, Winchester._

“I’d say it’s looking good.” Point to Cas. Dean props the phone between his ear and his shoulder to peel off the flannel he has on over his shirt. When did it get so hot in here?

“How’s tomorrow, say around seven? I know a great place within walking distance as long as you’re not allergic to anything or hate sushi or something.”

Dean has his preferences but really, he just loves food. “Sounds great, Cas. I’ll text you my address?”

“Of course, Dean. Thank you,” Cas’ voice drops and Dean can almost swear he sounds shy. “For calling.”

“Thanks for giving me your number before I asked for it.”

“You were going to ask for my number?” He’s teasing Dean again.

“It was on the tip of my tongue.” _Like riding a bike._

“Mmmm, good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Officer.” Dean hears the end call notification.

_H O L Y S H I T_

Dean’s skin is buzzing. He can’t remember the last time he had a conversation that made him so—giddy. Dean feels like he could run a marathon from the exhilaration. He’s grinning like an idiot and if the discomfort in his cheeks is any indication, Dean’s been doing it for a while.

Well, who the fuck cares. Dean has a date with a really hot, really flirty guy who sounds into him. He’s glad they decided to meet tomorrow otherwise he’d be going out of his mind waiting to see Cas again.

Dean looks back at the drawing, now sitting on the coffee table in front of him. He grins and picks his phone back up to call Charlie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	3. Chapter 3

Dean can’t stop thinking about Cas. After he called Charlie and spilled the details of their phone call, he sent a text to Cas with his address. They spent the rest of the night texting, and Dean is starting to see the appeal. Cas is funny and flirty and anytime Dean gets a little flustered, he can take a few moments to come up with something witty to say back. 

No way in hell he’s letting Sam know he was right. 

They agreed on dinner at eight and after work, Charlie’s coming over “to help him get ready”, like he’s going to the prom or something. He’s secretly relieved; letting Charlie pick out his clothes will be one less thing he has to worry about. 

Dean’s excited and it’s nice to be excited about something again. He woke up to a text from Cas, wishing him a good day at work and it was awesome to wake up and smile. He scrolls through their messages as he waits for his coffee, smiling at his phone as he reads them again. 

“Well, good morning, Officer. Fancy meeting you here.” 

Dean’s eyes widen and he turns to see Cas standing behind him, a twinkle in his eye. “Reading something good?” he asks.

Dean swallows. “Just some messages from a cute guy I met.” 

_ Oh my god, that was cheesy dude, he’s not gonna fall for that. _

But Cas smiles wide and damn, he’s beautiful. “Is that so? Got a hot date?” 

_ Huh, maybe Dean’s not so bad at this.  _

He nods and ducks his head, taking a second to appreciate the man in front of him. Cas has a yoga bag slung around his back and he's wearing black capri yoga pants that hug every curve of his thighs and calves. Dean licks his lips and thinks about biting them. 

_ Fucking hell.  _

The neck of Cas’ oversized shirt is showing off collar bones that Dean wants to lick and he flushes red when Cas clears his throat. 

Cas has one eyebrow raised, and he's wearing a smirk when Dean's eyes get back to his face. Cas’ tongue darts out to wet his lips and Dean imagines this is what a coronary feels like. 

_ He's not going to survive this man.  _

Dean takes a steadying breath in through his nose and gives Cas his sweetest smile in some kind of attempt to play off his open staring. “I’m not one to brag but my date? He’s fuckin’ gorgeous.”

_ Point Winchester.  _

A faint blush paints Cas’ cheeks and he leans into Dean's personal space. “Bendy too.”

Dean’s mouth falls open and Cas turns with a wink so he can order his coffee, his dark hair thick and wild. Dean wonders if it’s as soft as it looks.

_ Nope. Not going to survive this at all.  _

Cas returns with Dean’s iced coffee in hand and passes it to him with a grin. “How’s the iced coffee?”

Dean sips it with a smile. “Great recommendation.” He checks his watch and sighs. As much as he'd prefer staring into Cas’ blue eyes all day, he has to get to work. He stands and tucks his phone into his pocket. 

“I gotta get going, shift starts at eight. Wanna give me a hint about where we're goin’ tonight?” Dean's stalling. 

“Not really.” 

Cas gives him a cheeky grin when Dean pushes his bottom lip out. “All right, that was fucking cute so I'll give you one hint.”

Dean throws his head back and laughs. 

“It's small and casual. So, no tie required, as good as you look in them,” Cas fingers Dean’s uniform tie, giving it a little tug and smoothing it down before stepping back. A shudder runs through Dean’s body at Cas’ firm hand sliding down his abdomen.

“Better get going, Officer. Lives to save and all that.”

Dean shoulders his gym bag and gives Cas a wink before he turns towards the door. He looks back to see Cas staring at his ass. 

“See ya later, Cas!” He gives his ass a little shake and hears Cas laugh and call out his goodbye. Dean has no idea when he became so forward but flirting with Cas is fun.

“Stay safe, Dean!”

Work drags and Dean swears he saw the clock turn  _ back _ at least once. The only thing that helps is the ongoing stream of texts Cas has been sending him all day. His latest is a picture of a pug on a leash in front of a yoga studio with the caption, “This morning's teacher”. 

**< <Is he bendy too? **

**> >You should see his downward dog. **

Okay so, Dean has to Google downward dog, but he laughs when the results come up. 

**< <Wouldn't mind seeing yours. **

Dean puts his phone in a drawer and slams it shut.  _ Who the actual fuck am I?  _

He waits until his face stops burning to check for a response. 

**> >That can probably be arranged. **

“Holy crap dude, are you ok? You’re bright red.” Charlie drops into the seat next to his desk, her  _ Lord of the Rings  _ messenger bag hitting the floor by her feet. She notices the phone in his hand and is suddenly all smiles. “Ooh I see what’s happening here.” She drops her voice. “Are you guys sexting already?”

“What the fuck, Charlie! No!” Dean pauses and thinks. “At least, I don’t think so?” He shows her the last few messages. She flicks her finger against the screen and her eyes widen. “How long have you guys been texting? Didn’t you  _ just  _ call him yesterday?” 

“First you and Sam tell me I don’t text enough and now I’m texting too much? Make up your mind!” Dean closes the file he’s working on and shoves it in the middle of the pile on his desk. “And don’t you dare tell Sam about this. He’ll never shut up about it.” 

Charlie freezes with her phone in her hands, looking guilty. She rolls her eyes up to the ceiling and tucks her phone in her bra. “Too late.” 

_ Fuck, how does she type so fast? _

Dean rushes them out of the station and into the Impala, trying not to break any speed limits on the way home. He grabs them both a beer while Charlie attacks his closet, pulling out different clothes. Her reject pile is growing while Dean watches with a wary eye. He thinks there are  _ at least _ five different outfits he would have chosen in the pile.

“Do you own anything that isn’t flannel?” 

Dean scowls. “What’s wrong with my flannel?” He likes his flannel. “The blazers and sweaters are in the back of the closet. Because I never wear them.” He flops down on his bed and watches her rummage through the closet. 

“But this is a first date, Dean. And you’re smoking hot. You should have given me more notice, we could have gone shopping.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. ‘Sorry, I could call and cancel? Tell him my best friend thinks all my clothes are shit and wants to take me shopping?” 

“Could you? That’d be great.” Charlie sticks her tongue out at him. “Lucky for you, I’m a genius and have picked out a few potential winners and considering what I have to work with—”  

“All right, okay, let’s see what you’ve got.” They switch places, Charlie laying on her stomach across the bed as Dean tries on the different outfits when the music starts.

_ I used to think maybe you loved me, now baby I’m sure... _

Dean stops pulling a black sweater over his head to turn and glare at Charlie. “ _ Walking on Sunshine?  _ Really?”

“Montage?” She looks so hopeful, Dean can’t bear to break her heart so he hooks one foot over the other and spins all the way around, shooting Charlie a cocky grin and the best damn bisexual finger guns a guy could offer. 

She’s laughing and has her phone pointed at him and he drops his ruse and flips her—and no doubt his little brother—the bird. He rolls his eyes and goes back to his choices.

Dean’s stuck between the dark jeans with the old Beatles shirt and black blazer and the brown pants and blue flannel. 

“Sam votes for the blazer,” Charlie holds out her phone to show Dean the text from his brother. “I agree.” 

Dean does too, but he doesn’t want to give these two the satisfaction. His inner drive to be petty and wear the flannel is weak though. “That was my first pick anyway.” 

While he’s in the shower, Charlie kindly cleans up all the clothes that ended up on the floor and is changing his sheets when he comes out of the bathroom. She looks over her shoulder and nods. “Yup, that’s the right outfit.” She goes back to fussing with the top sheet before asking, “Do you have condoms? Please tell me you bought condoms.” 

Dean’s starting to really regret asking her over. 

He narrows his eyes and glares at her. “It’s a first date! We’re not gonna—”  

Charlie’s shaking her head and pursing her lips at him.

“Yes, mom, I bought condoms ok?” 

“You better wrap it up, Dean! No glove, no love!” Dean startles at the tinny sound of Sam’s voice and notices his grinning face on Charlie’s phone propped up on his nightstand. 

“When did this turn into a group activity? I’m a grown ass man, I know what I’m doing.” 

“Sure, Dean!”  _ Little shit.  _

He puts Charlie’s phone face down before slipping into the bathroom to finish getting ready and laughs when he hears Sam’s muffled protests. Dean can’t escape because Charlie follows him in, phone in hand and sits on the closed lid of the toilet to watch him style his hair. 

He hasn’t shaved in a few days and has some scruff going so he asks for the opinion of the peanut gallery. “Shave—Yay? Nay?” 

Charlie is a hard no and Sam agrees, the scruff voted in unanimously. After Charlie sniffs all his colognes, she holds out his bottle of Versace  _ Eros,  _ a good choice if you ask him. He pumps a few spritzes on his neck and shirt and takes one last look in the mirror. Charlie and Sam are wearing matching smirks which Dean takes as their approval. 

“I think you’re ready for the ball, Cinderella.” Charlie grins and rolls the sleeves of his blazer up a little. “You clean up real nice, Winchester. My work here is done!” 

“Have fun tonight, Dean! Better call me tomorrow and give me the details!” Sam is giving him a thumbs up through the phone.

Sam will be lucky if Dean ever calls him again and tells him as much. He ends their little Facetime session with a roll of his eyes. Charlie gathers her stuff and kisses Dean on the cheek before she heads out. “Enjoy yourself, Dean. You deserve to have a little fun.” 

She’s right though. It’s been so damn long since Dean has looked forward to anything, he’s a little sick about it. He’s  _ nervous.  _ Cas is hot and witty and Dean prays he can keep up tonight.

“Thanks, Red. Appreciate your help, seriously.” He smiles and watches her go down the stairs. “Maybe I’ll let you take me shopping this weekend,” he calls to her. She whoops and Dean’s laughing when he shuts the door. 

He finishes his beer and only has a few minutes to pace around the living room before his intercom is buzzing. He swallows and takes a grounding breath. 

“Cas?” 

“It’s me!”

“I’ll be right down.” 

Dean leaves the kitchen light on and locks up, shaking his shoulders loose before jogging down the stairs.  _ You got this, Winchester. _

He opens the door to see Cas leaning in the entranceway of his building and he looks  _ amazing.  _ He’s wearing black pants that end at his ankles and crisp white converse. One of his legs is bent at the knee and there’s a thin rip in the pants, showing off a bit of skin. His shirt has a geometric bear on it in multiple colors and a dark grey cardigan completes the look. Cas has his hot glasses on and his dark hair is wild and Dean wants to run his hands through it. He wonders how opposed the guy would be to skipping dinner and letting Dean drag him upstairs. 

He smirks like he can read Dean’s mind and pushes off the wall, looking Dean up and down appreciatively. 

“You were worried it was just the uniform, or what?” 

Cas laughs and steps onto the sidewalk. “No, I’m pretty sure you’d look good in a paper bag.” 

Dean blushes and joins Cas. “I might have had a little help.” 

“Oh, yeah?” They start walking west and Dean lets Cas lead the way. Their shoulders brush together as they walk and anytime they have to share the sidewalk, Cas places his hand on the small of Dean’s back while they let the other people pass. 

“Yeah, my best friend came over and went through my closet. She wasn’t impressed, said I had too much flannel.” Dean gives Cas a side glance, only to see that he’s smiling. 

“Aww, I like flannel. Very rugged.” Cas winks as they turn the corner. “So do you have a lot of trouble dressing yourself?” 

Dean shakes his head, laughing. “Not usually but, it’s been awhile since I had a first date. Wanted to make a good impression.” 

“Well, let the best friend know she did good. You look very handsome.” 

“Thanks, Cas. You do too.” Dean’s warm, despite the slight chill in the air. 

“Thank you.” One side of his mouth quirks up. “Tell me Dean, have you ever had Ramen?” 

He shakes his head. “No, I’m more of a meat and potatoes kinda guy. But I’ll try anything once.” 

Cas arches an eyebrow. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

_ Oh, hell. _

“How do you feel about spicy food?” 

“The spicier the better, Cas.” 

Cas grins as he pulls open the door to a tiny, unassuming restaurant. There’s less than ten tables and a long bar with seating. It’s dark and private and they take a table for two in the corner. The waitress hands them menus and Dean panics. He has no idea what any of this food is and he hopes Cas can’t tell. 

“I don’t expect you to know what any of this is, Dean, since you’ve never been here..”  _ Shit.  _ “I’ll be happy to order for us, if you want to put your trust in me.” Cas’ face is open and he’s smiling this little smile and Dean is a goner. 

“Yeah, Cas, I trust you.” 

The waitress comes back and asks if they’re ready to order. 

“We are. We’ll take two bowls of the spicy tonkotsu ramen, extra meat. Two Sapporos.  A bottle of sake, and an order of french fries. Thanks so much.” He hands her their menus and leans back in his seat, smiling at Dean from across the table. 

“French fries, Cas? Sounds authentic,” Dean teases and Cas laughs.

“You’ll be surprised how good they are.”

“I hope some of that was alcohol.” 

Cas nods. “Beers. And a Japanese alcoholic rice drink. It has a little higher alcohol content than beer, enough to get a nice buzz going.” He leans in. “I think you’ll like it.” 

Their drinks come and Cas serves them each a cup of sake. He holds his beer up to toast. “To first dates with attractive company.” 

“I’ll drink to that.” Dean taps his glass against Cas’, loving the wide smile on his face. 

Cas gestures towards the sake. “Some people take shots of this but I prefer sipping it. It might be a little strong at first but it’s good.” He picks up his glass and sips. Dean follows suit. The sake is a little sweet, and it goes down smooth. 

Their meal arrives and Dean’s eyes widen. “Is that… an egg?” He pokes it with his spoon. Cas is unwrapping a pair of chopsticks, handing them to Dean before opening his own. He’s fighting back a laugh. 

“It is. It’s boiled in the soup. You’ll like it.” Dean watches Cas’ long fingers wrap around the chopsticks, admires his dexterity. 

_ Wonder what else those fingers can do. _

Shit. If he’s gonna get through the rest of this date, Dean needs to pull back. He tries to concentrate on what Cas is saying about the ramen. 

“Use the chopsticks to pick up the noodles and the spoon for the broth. It’s kind of a two hand dish.” Cas demonstrates and Dean can’t tear his eyes away from Cas’ throat working as he swallows. He clears his throat and digs into his food. 

They eat in silence for a few minutes before Cas puts his spoon down to eat some fries. He takes the pepper and shakes it over the ketchup, dipping a fry into the mixture. He holds it out to Dean and Dean grins before he takes a bite. 

“I thought you could use some normal food amongst all the new flavors. Do you like the soup?”

“Yeah, it’s awesome. I bet my brother would like it.” 

“Does he live around here?” 

“Kinda. He’s goin’ to Stanford. Pre-law.” If there’s one thing Dean can talk about all day, it's how proud he is of his little brother. “He’s a pain in my ass but I’m real proud of the kid. He’s the reason I’m here in San Francisco.” 

“And what did you leave behind in Kansas?” 

“Not a lot, actually. Some family but not enough to keep me there, what with Sam being out here alone.” He takes a sip of the sake and enjoys the slight burn. His blood is thrumming under his skin and he isn’t sure if it’s the drink or the man hanging on his every word. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Left an ex behind too. She ah, cheated on me.”

“Oh my god, am I a rebound?” Cas pretends to look scandalized, one hand on his chest. 

Dean chuckles. “Nope, his name was Aaron and that one night stand got left in Kansas too.” 

“Good.” Cas refills their cups. “Their loss.” 

Dean takes another drink of sake. He looks at Cas over the rim of his cup. “Might be your gain.” 

“God, I hope so.” Cas’ smile is coy as he reaches over and trails a finger across Dean’s knuckles. It makes Dean’s heart race.

“What about you? Why’d you leave Illinois?” Dean’s eating slower, in no hurry to end the night. 

Cas laughs and knocks back the rest of his beer. “I think that story is too much for our first date. Maybe date four or five.” 

“We goin’ on four or five dates, Cas?” Dean knows a subject change when he sees one. 

“If I’m lucky.” 

Dean’s about to lean in but stops short at the sight of Cas rolling up his sleeves to reveal his forearm, covered in a honeycomb tattoo. Sharp blues, purples, and greens melt into each other and a bumblebee floats over the inside of his wrist. Dean sucks in a sharp breath and drops his spoon into his bowl as Cas rolls his sleeve higher. Flowers bloom as Dean’s eyes travel up, sunflowers curling into daisies, vines wrapping around his arm. Cas sees that Dean’s attention is on his arm and he holds it out for Dean to inspect closer. 

He takes Cas’ hand in his and ghosts his fingertips over the exposed skin. Dean coaxes Cas’ arm to turn, seeing a large dandelion, it’s seeds blowing away and up the outside of Cas’ arm. In awe of the art, he presses against each floating seed, Cas’ skin warm under his touch.

“This is beautiful, Cas. Is this your art?” 

Cas gives him a pleased smile. “It is. I designed the entire thing.” 

Dean is still staring, his eyes tracing up and down the solid lines of honeycomb. “You’re fucking talented.” He finally rips his eyes from the tattoo to see Cas staring at him, his eyes burning in the low light. 

Dean loses track of time. All that matters is the blue of Cas’ eyes and the warmth of his hand in Dean’s.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas breathes out. He slides his hand up and squeezes Dean’s wrist. “Shall we go?” 

Dean nods and lets Cas pull him out of his seat, smiles as he winds their fingers together. The air is crisp and cold when they leave the restaurant and Dean realizes he’s a little drunk once they’re out and walking down the street. He squeezes Cas’ hand and leans in closer to his side so their arms press together as they walk.  

“Tell me your favorite thing about the city, Dean.” 

“Well, it used to be the Presidio,” Dean pauses and stops walking, wrapping his arm around Cas and pulling him close. Cas response by wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. He continues, “now I think I have a new favorite.” 

Dean can’t wait any longer to taste Cas’ lips, and tugs him close to press their mouths together, soft at first and praying he’s not overstepping any boundaries. Based on the vibes Cas has been giving off all night, Dean doesn’t think he’s missing the mark here. 

Dean’s been thinking about how Cas might taste since he laid eyes on him at Weaver’s and the kiss is nothing like he imagined. 

_ Holy fuck, it’s better. _

It’s so much better. Cas’ lips are soft but firm when Cas kisses him back. Cas opens his mouth with a groan as he wraps his arms tighter around Dean’s neck, dragging them impossibly close and making Dean feel the strength in his arms.

Dean gasps as Cas spins him, pressing him against the nearest building and damn, does Dean like being manhandled. The low heat in his stomach grows while Cas kisses him like it’s their last night on earth or something. Dean loves his enthusiasm and pouts a little when Cas pulls back and pants against Dean’s mouth. “The Presidio, that’s nice.” He kisses Dean like fire, running his tongue against the seam of Dean’s lips until he submits and lets him in. He nips at Dean’s lip, coaxing a moan from the back of Dean’s throat. 

_ Oh my god he tastes so good. _

Dean remembers they’re in the street and breaks the seal of their lips, dragging his mouth to Cas’ cheek so he can catch his breath. He presses his head to the building behind him and closes his eyes. “To be honest, I haven’t seen much of the city yet.” 

Cas takes a deep breath like it pains him to stop and he pulls Dean away from the wall to keep walking. Dean chuckles and links their arms together. 

_ Definitely drunk. _

He just can’t figure out if it’s because of the drinks with dinner or because of Cas. 

“If only I had a hot, dark haired, tour guide to show me the sights.” He leans in to run his nose along the space behind Cas’ ear. He drops his voice to a whisper. “Know anyone like that, Cas?” 

He knows he can blame the alcohol for his brazenness. 

Dean laughs when strong arms wrap around his waist, swaying them where they stand. “I actually do know someone like that.” Cas bites gently along Dean’s jaw. “And I happen to know he’d love to take you sightseeing.” 

“Awesome,” Dean breathes out as Cas’ stubble rubs against his own. 

_ Yup, that’s as amazing as he imagined. Fuck, better.  _

Somehow, they’re back at Dean’s but before he can be disappointed, Cas is pushing him back against the wall of the entryway, the two of them locked against each other in the darkness. Cas’ tongue is in his mouth, rolling against his and all Dean can think of is pulling him up the stairs and into his bed.

It’s cut short when he remembers that he has to be at work in less than six hours. He considers quitting but instead, groans and pulls back, pressing his forehead to Cas’. “I want nothing more than to take you upstairs but I have to be at work by eight.” 

_ Fuck, that sounds terrible. _

“I swear Cas, it’s not a line. Fuck—” He runs his hands over Cas’ shoulders. “You’re so fucking hot and—” Cas presses a finger to Dean’s lips. 

“It’s fine, Dean. I’m happy to wait for someone like you.” He cups Dean’s face and pulls them together again. Dean doesn’t mind losing track of time until Cas pulls back. “When can I see you again?” 

_ Tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.  _

“I’ve got two twelves to work and then two off.”

“Perfect. I have two days to plan our little excursion then.” 

Dean grins and yanks Cas back to him. Fuck it, he’ll sleep when he’s dead. 

They kiss until their lips are swollen and chapped, both of them completely breathless when they part. Dean has no idea how he does it but Cas steps back, stumbling out of the entryway. 

“You stay safe, Officer.” Cas winks and turns to go. Dean leans out of the entryway to watch him walk away and Cas keeps glancing over his shoulder. Dean raises his hand in a wave but watches until Cas gets to the corner. He looks back one more time and raises his own hand in goodbye. 

Best first date  _ ever. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	4. Chapter 4

He apologizes to Sam but Dean has to reschedule their hang out time. He has a date. 

Cas sent him a text when he got back home the night of their first date, thanking him for his company and proposing they meet up Sunday around nine in the morning. 

They spent the rest of their two days apart texting. 

Charlie busts his balls non-stop and Dean can't figure out how she always knows when he's texting Cas. 

“It's that goofy fucking smile on your face, Winchester.” She grins. “Looks good on you.”

He blushes. His cheeks have been sore the past few days from smiling so much. 

The morning of their date, Dean is nervous. Charlie had been by his apartment the day before and had laid a few suggested outfits on the bed. He ends up keeping it simple; dark jeans with a black henley, a flannel made up of blues and purples, the sleeves rolled up. Charlie calls it his bi plaid and hell if he doesn’t like that. He slides on a few leather bracelets, including one Sam made him at summer camp years ago.

Dean’s messing with his hair for the hundredth time when he hears the buzzer. He grabs his keys and Ray-Bans before answering. 

“Cas? I'll be right down.”

“I'll be here.” 

_ Fuck, that voice.  _

Dean's been dreaming in gravelly tones for days. 

He shoves his phone in his pocket and locks up before jogging down the stairs. Cas wouldn't give him any hints about what he has planned for their day but Dean would be happy to stare at a brick wall all day if it meant he got to do it with Cas. 

Dean wants to turn around and go right back up his stairs when he sees Cas because hell no, it’s unfair for one man to be this hot. This motherfucker is leaning against a classic Triumph Bonneville motorcycle and the combination of the bike and Cas is about the sexiest thing Dean’s ever seen in his life. And Cas, that fucker,  _ he knows it.  _ He’s so hot and Dean doesn’t think he can function near him, let alone have to wrap himself around him on a bike all day.

Cas just grins, a confident gleam in his eyes, which are  _ not _ covered by his glasses today and holy shit, not for nothing but the way they sparkle in the sun is, well—beautiful. 

“You don’t mind the motorcycle?” Cas grabs two helmets resting on the seat. Dean’s eyes widen when he holds them out. Both are hand painted, one with a replica of Boba Fett’s helmet and the other of an X-wing fighter. They’re fucking awesome. 

“Tell me Dean, do you lean towards The Dark Side,” he holds up the bounty hunter’s helmet. “Or are you One with The Force?” he asks as he holds up the rebel alliance helmet. 

_ Fuck. Marry me.  _

The second the thought crosses his mind, Dean knows he’s bright red, and he prays for lightning to strike him. 

_ Jesus fucking Christ Winchester, LOCK IT UP. _

He clears his throat. “Boba Fett was always a favorite.” His voice is rough, probably because his throat is so fucking dry.

“I had a feeling,” Cas smirks and hands him the helmet before slipping on aviators, because he just wasn’t gorgeous enough already. “Did you have breakfast?”

Dean nodded. “Had coffee and a scone after the gym this morning.” 

“You worked out this morning?” Cas raises an eyebrow. “That’s kinda hot.” 

“You can thank the Army. I wake up way too early,” Dean rolls his eyes. “Old habits die hard.” 

“You were in the Army? Fuck, that’s even hotter.” Cas looks at him pointedly. “Did you hang on to any of those uniforms?” 

Dean throws his head back and laughs. Goddamn is this man going to keep him on his toes. 

He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Sorry to disappoint but they’re in a box in my childhood bedroom. In Kansas.” 

“Ah well, a guy can dream.” He winks. “You ready?” Cas pulls his helmet on and climbs on the bike, grinning the whole time. Dean shakes his head and follows. 

He startles when he hears Cas’ deep voice right in his ear. “Hello, Dean. Can you hear me ok?” The helmets have bluetooth mics.

_ Fucking awesome. _

“Yeah, Cas, can you hear me? This is fucking awesome.” 

Cas laughs. “Glad you like it. We can listen to music too, I’ve got these hooked up to my phone. Just say the word.” 

Dean can hear the smile in his voice when Dean settles in the seat behind him and puts a hesitant hand on Cas’ shoulder. 

“Arms around my waist, Dean. Much safer that way.” Dean didn’t know someone’s smile could sound so sexy. He does what he’s told and revels in the tautness of Cas’ body. 

_ Bet he’s so fucking hot naked. _

An image of Cas and his gorgeous body looming over him and pinning him down flashes in Dean’s mind and he has to shift in his seat and hope his dick isn’t pressing into Cas’ back. 

Cas just chuckles, scoots towards Dean, and arches his back while he starts the bike. The vibration of the engine and Cas’ ass have Dean silently groaning. He clamps down on his bottom lip in a desperate attempt to get his shit together. 

Dean clenches his thighs around Cas as they take off. They’re almost taking Dean’s exact drive to work but Cas stays on Market, passing City Hall before he cuts over towards Nob Hill. He takes them by The Fairmont, explaining that it was under construction during the 1906 earthquake and almost burned to the ground before it came to be. He couldn’t say the same for the Grace Cathedral which  _ did  _ burn down in 1906 but was rebuilt in the Twenties.  

“How do you know so much about this stuff, Cas?” 

“I’m kind of a history nerd,” Cas admits. “It’s one reason I moved here. This city is fascinating.” Dean decides that listening to Cas talk about something with passion is his new kink. He tightens his arms around Cas’ waist. 

“If I get boring, please tell me.” 

_ Pfft, I could listen to you read me the dictionary. _

“No way. I’m paying for the full tour, I want my money’s worth,” Dean teases. 

“Well damn, Officer. I can’t wait to collect.” He wiggles a little in Dean’s arms and Dean swallows his tongue before he laughs. 

They cut up Hyde Street and Dean enjoys the view of the city below them. He’s happy when Cas goes down Lombard, the crookedest street in the world. Him and Sammy drove down it in the Impala a few times, barely making all the turns. 

“So the guy that designed this, Carl Henry, he did it because of the grade of the street which, in 1922, most vehicles couldn’t handle. Obviously the idea didn’t take off.” 

_ Oh my god, he’s a nerd. He’s a huge, sexy nerd.  _

“Obviously.” Dean reaches out and lets his fingers trail over one of the hydrangea bushes that line the street. Being on a bike gives him a whole new perspective of the street. “Hey, which house is the Real World house?” 

“Fuck, I loved that show. Me and Gabriel—that’s the annoying brother you heard over the phone—we used to watch it at night with the subtitles on and no sound, so our mother didn’t catch us.” Cas’ laughter over the headset surrounds Dean. 

_ Never gonna get tired of that. _

“It’s on Lombard, just not the crooked part. We’ll have to go looking for famous houses one of these days. The Mrs. Doubtfire house is around here somewhere.” 

“Oh! And the Full House houses!” 

“They’re called the Painted Ladies, and yes. They’re in the area.” 

“Maybe next time we can cruise in my Baby. She’d like to see the city too.” Dean thinks Cas would look fucking gorgeous in his car. He’d very much like to see that.

“Your what?” 

Dean laughs. “My car. She’s a ‘67 Chevy Impala and the love of my life.” 

“Glad to know my competition is a car,” Cas teases. 

“Yeah, she’s a beauty but you’re a better kisser. At least, I think.” 

“Remind me to refresh your memory.” 

A shiver runs down Dean’s back at the prospect of kissing Cas again. He’s thinking about it a lot and barely notices when Cas parks the bike. 

“We’re here, Dean. Our first stop.” Cas steadies them when Dean climbs off the bike before he sweeps his arm out. “Fisherman’s Wharf, mandatory tourist stop. Perfect if you like kitschy souvenir shops and street seafood. You know, if salmonella is your thing.” 

“Hard pass, thanks.” 

Cas takes the helmets and lifts the seats to drop them inside, locking both compartments. 

“I don’t think that was stock on the ‘82 Bonneville.” 

Cas looks impressed. “You know bikes?” 

“A little. I mean, I know a classic when I see it,” Dean gestures at the bike. “I drive a classic car. Motorcycles kind of come with.” 

Cas smiles at him as he tries to tame his hair, sliding a black beanie over his head. Hair escapes from the top, clearly with a mind of its own. Dean wants to sink his fingers into it. 

“Well, you’re right. When I restored her with my brother, we upgraded some features for functionality. Like the seat compartments. A mount for my cell phone,” he points to the front of the bike. “We painted the helmets; Gabriel wasn’t pleased to share.” 

“Oh shit, sorry. I—”  

Cas laughs. “Why are you apologizing? I brought it to you.” He takes a step towards Dean and reaches for his hand. “I guess we’ll just have to paint you your own, if you want to take more rides.” 

_ More. Rides. More riding Cas—shit, with Cas. Yeah. Let’s do that.  _

He swallows noisily and nods his head. “Yeah, I like the sound of that.” 

Cas kisses him. “Great.” He tugs on Dean’s hand. “Come on then, lots to see.” 

Dean grins when they join the crowds of people walking around the Pier. He’s made a few arrests in the area but never stopped to look around. It’s huge, stores and restaurants are on both sides of them and Cas is holding his hand and pointing things out to him as they walk. They stop for a bag of mini donuts—“Is this because I'm a cop?”—and make their way to the outer part of the pier. Dean can hear a barking noise up ahead and he looks at Cas curiously. 

“This might seem weird but I love this place. Can you hear them?” Cas has a mischievous look in his eyes as they walk. 

“Yeah, what the hell is that?” 

“Sea Lions.” His grin is wide and bright and Dean can tell he wasn’t lying about loving it here. 

Dean smiles—how could he not—and shakes his head. “Ok, my devastatingly handsome tour guide. Explain.” 

Cas launches into a story about the sea lions and how they just appeared on the docks in the Nineties and now the city protects them and lets them stay. Dean’s amazed when they reach them, hundreds of Sea Lions sleeping, fighting, and swimming around a handful of floating docks. Cas pulls him by the hand to sit on one of the wooden structures set up to observe them. 

Dean’s laughing as two of the lions play fight and flop into the water and when he turns to point them out to Cas, he finds the man staring at him, his lips curled into a smile. In the next moment, Cas kisses him and he tastes like cinnamon and sugar from the donuts and everything just fades away. Their mouths are hot against one another and a low groan comes from Cas’s throat when their tongues slide together. 

_ Already best second date ever.  _

Cas pulls off him with a gasp, panting as he bites his lip. Dean wants to bite Cas’ lip too. 

“We'll never leave this fucking bench if we don't get up and go.  _ Now.” _

_ Oh holy fuck, sweet mother of—   _

Cas is pulling him to his feet before Dean can argue. Maybe he  _ wants  _ to sit here all day kissing Cas. Doesn't he get a say? 

Cas walks with him, their arms linked. He leans into Dean every few feet for a kiss, always playful and smiling. The breeze is crisp against Dean's neck and the air cold, and Cas’ smile outshines every damn thing Dean has ever enjoyed about living here. 

_ Maybe this is what I was looking for.  _

The thought is sobering and Dean tries to shake it off even if it’s hard to deny there’s something about Cas that feels special. He feeds Dean the last donut and chucks out the bag they came in. Cas licks the sugar from his fingers and stares at Dean and it’s the goddamn sexiest thing he’s ever seen and he’s mad that it's not him sucking those long fingers clean.

_ This guy’s gonna ruin eating for me, isn’t he? _

He stops Dean with a hand to his chest before they put on their helmets. His eyes flick to Dean's lips and Dean can't help but sneak the tip of his tongue between his teeth and smile. Cas groans and pulls Dean in by his shirt, crushing their mouths together. 

Dean’s perfectly ok if this is all they’re gonna do today. Seriously. 

Cas has other plans when he pulls back to catch his breath. His eyes are heated as he stares at Dean. “Your mouth is very dangerous. I have to keep reminding myself that we have a whole day planned.” 

Dean smirks. “I really wouldn’t mind if—”

Cas presses a hand to his mouth, effectively shutting him up. “Don’t. The temptation is too great.” He replaces his hand with his mouth and they kiss for another minute. Some jackass honking his horn breaks the spell and they pull apart, matching goofy grins on both their faces. 

Dean pulls on his helmet after Cas does, slightly disappointed that the kissing stopped. They both climb on the bike and Dean lets his hands drag a little slower than normal when he wraps them around Cas’ middle. 

“We’re very close to our next stop.” The smile is still in Cas’ voice. 

“Lead the way, Cas.” Dean settles on the seat of the bike and watches the various stores and restaurants pass by. Cas points out Boudin’s Bakery when they ride by, telling Dean about sourdough bread and the history of how each loaf of bread is made from the same “mother dough” that the companies been using since the 1800s. 

Dean scoffs and Cas laughs. “I have no idea how they do it so don’t ask. I suspect witchcraft.” 

They pull up to a grey building, a neon sign announcing where they are: “The Buena Vista” in bright orange. Cas climbs off the bike and takes his helmet off. “Ever had an Irish Coffee, Dean?” 

“Irish? As in whiskey?” 

Cas nods with a gleam in his eye. 

“Breakfast appropriate alcohol is actually one of my favorite things,” Dean tells him seriously. 

A laugh rumbles out of Cas’ chest. “Excellent. Remind me to take you out for bottomless mimosas one morning.” 

_ Mornings with Cas. Yup, Dean wants that. _

He follows Cas inside where they get served right away, Cas ordering two Irish Coffees and a bread pudding to share. The waitress explains the history of the restaurant, how it’s been around since the Fifties. Dean wishes it was Cas telling him in his rumbling timbre but once she leaves, Cas leans over the table to tip their glasses together. Dean rises in his seat to meet Cas across the table, their lips brushing together. 

The flavors of good whiskey and cream burst across his tongue and Cas smiles as he watches Dean enjoy the drink. His unwavering gaze makes Dean squirm in all the right places and he’s finding it hard to concentrate as Cas’ eyes drift over his face, like he’s memorizing it for later. 

“So, your brother’s an artist too?” Dean wants to get Cas talking not just to hear his voice but because he’s curious about this enthralling, nerdy guy who loves this city and wants to make Dean fall in love with it just by the way he describes it. Dean kinda wants Cas to talk about  _ him _ that way, one day. 

“He is,” Cas’ eyes soften when he talks about his brother. Dean suspects his face does something similar when he mentions Sam. 

“You guys hang out a lot?” Dean takes a bite of the bread pudding they’re sharing. 

“Yeah, we kinda have to, considering he’s my business partner.” Cas smiles. “We’re comic book illustrators. Have you ever heard of Supernatural?” 

Dean shakes his head. Comics have never been his thing, but he makes a mental note to ask Charlie if she’s ever heard of it. 

“It’s a series of graphic novels. We have a fairly decent following. We illustrate other stuff too but Supernatural is our baby.” Cas’ eyes shine with pride. 

“So you guys draw the entire thing?” 

“Well, Gabriel does the drawings and I ink them.” Cas takes his own bite of pudding. 

“You ink them? Like color them?” 

A quick look of irritation crosses Cas’ face before he answers and Dean wonders how often he gets asked that question. 

“Yes, Gabriel does all the black line drawings and I add the color. Let me show you, it’s easier than trying to explain.” 

He’s talking like he expects Dean not to understand and that’s kind of rude. “Hey, I’m not trying to insult you, Cas. I honestly don’t know a lot about this stuff and I’m curious ok? I’m sorry if—”  

The tension leaves Cas’ shoulders. “Dean, no—I’m sorry—It’s just, I get a lot of crap for ‘just coloring’”, he uses air quotes before he continues. “What I do, it’s so much more than that.” Cas has his phone out and he opens an app, and swipes through a few photos before he holds it out to Dean. There’s a black and white drawing of two men, one holding a gun and the other a knife. They’re standing in front of a car, both with looks of determination on their faces. 

“Ok so see, this is what Gabriel gives me and I turn it into this,” he swipes to the left and suddenly, Dean is looking at an entirely different photo. Both men have come to life from one drawing to the next. The sky swirls with color, now Dean can tell it’s dusk, that the car is black and gleaming under a streetlight. He can see that the handle of the gun is a pearly white and the blade of the knife shines. One man has dirty blonde hair and the other’s is a chocolate brown. He looks back at Cas and hopes he can see the awe on his face. 

Dean swallows. “Cas, this is incredible. Can I?” He wants to swipe back to the black-and-white picture and see the differences again. Cas gives him a small nod, his lips parted. 

Dean takes his permission and flips between the two pictures a few times, each time catching something he didn’t notice before. 

‘This is awesome,” he breathes out. “You’re both really talented but wow, you made this picture come to life.” 

Cas has a weird look on his face when he pulls his phone away and tucks it back into his pocket. “Thank you, Dean.” He schools his features and takes a long drink of his Irish Coffee, his eyes closed. When he opens them, his grin is back. “Again, I’m sorry for overreacting.” 

Dean returns his smile, thankful that Cas’ irritation has passed. Dean kinda wants to pummel anyone who ever made him think what he does isn’t amazing. 

Their drinks and bread pudding are gone and Cas grabs the bill before Dean can. He ignores Dean’s protests and stands. “Shall we?” 

Dean joins him and feels a thrill when Cas presses a hand to the small of his back as he ushers them towards the door. He waits outside while Cas pays and checks his phone for the first time since this morning. There’s a few messages from Sam and Charlie checking in and he texts them both a thumbs up before Cas steps back out. 

“The best friend again?” Cas smiles before he pulls on his helmet on. 

Dean follows and climbs on the bike. “And my brother. They’re very invested in my personal life.” 

“That bad, huh?” Cas pulls into traffic and heads east. 

“They are both really dramatic but I guess they have a reason. I haven’t dated since I moved here so they have  _ concerns. _ ” 

Cas’ chuckle fills his ears. “Gabriel calls me picky. It’s not my fault I have specific tastes.” 

_ Oh god. _

“It’s the freckles, isn’t it?” Dean’s glad Cas can’t see his face because he’s sure it’s bright red. 

Cas is laughing again and his voice is teasing. “Definitely. The green eyes and the uniform also didn’t hurt.” 

Before Dean can reply, they’re arriving at their next destination and Dean knows this one, kinda. 

“The Palace of Fine Arts,” he’s proud to tell Cas before Cas has time to tell him.

Cas beams as he puts their helmets away. “Have you been here?” 

“Kinda. Charlie dragged me out to one of those Movie in the Park things about a month ago. They had a big inflatable screen out there in the water.” Dean points to the small lake surrounding the big arches. “We watched Jurassic Park. It was kinda cool, they had food trucks—” 

“And people were running around in T-Rex costumes,” Cas is laughing. “Gabriel and I attended that screening. What a coincidence, we could have met that night.”

Cas takes his hand and they walk toward the buildings. 

“Maybe I would have asked you out instead of the other way around,” Dean teases. 

Cas pulls away and raises an eyebrow. “Maybe?”

“Most definitely.” Dean tugs him back with a wink. “If we had met a month ago, this would be what, date number five? Six?”

“At the very least. I'd like to think that number higher, considering.”

_ Considering.  _

Dean knows how  _ he  _ feels and he agrees that the number would be much higher if he had his way. Cas smiles and Dean suspects he's doing the mind reading thing again when Cas slides into his personal space, tucking his hands in the back pockets of Dean's jeans. Dean lets his hands rest on Cas’ firm hips and they just stare at each other for a moment before they come together with a groan. 

Dean is busy trying to memorize Cas’ bottom lip with his mouth when Cas, again, pulls away first. The willpower on this guy, Dean swears. Dean attempts to chase those lips back down but Cas huffs out a laugh and laces their hands together, pulling Dean in the direction of the dome. Dean drags his feet a little and pouts, getting his way when Cas shakes his head and stops to pull Dean to his side. He still has Dean by the hand when he places a chaste kiss on the apple of his cheek before dragging his mouth over to Dean’s ear. 

“Just a little further, Dean,” and then they’re off again. Dean can't help but be pleased with himself. 

Cas goes on about ancient Greek architecture and painted murals and how the artist’s work depicted the four “golds” of California. Dean’s not entirely sure what he’s talking about but Cas is excited and it makes Dean smile.

“... metallic gold, citrus fruits, and poppies. Poppies! Isn’t that cool?” Cas comes to an abrupt stop and Dean has little time to avoid crashing into him, too mesmerized by the hum of Cas’ voice to realize what's happening. He stumbles into Cas’ side and a firm arm around his waist catches Dean before he falls. 

_ Too late, idiot. _

Dean wills his brain to  _ shut the fuck up _ before he rights himself and takes a small step back. The corner of Cas’ mouth quirks up, and Dean wants to feel the dip of Cas’ dimple under his lips. Cas, that smooth motherfucker, tightens the arm that’s around Dean, pulling their bodies together. Cas is all long lines and firm muscles and he smells amazing, like leather and charcoal, and just,  _ man. _

Dean is distracted by Cas kissing the back of his hand pulled between them. Cas tucks their joined hands between their chests and breathes into Dean’s ear, “Look up, Dean.” 

The rotunda towers above them and the light streams in from the arches, beams of it cutting through the air, dust dancing through the yellow light. Dean feels like he’s spinning, the air around them charged with an energy Dean can feel pulsing through them. His heart is racing and judging by the way Cas’ chest is heaving too, Dean thinks his heart is acting accordingly. 

They look back at each other at the same time and Cas leans in, hesitant now and Dean wonders if he feels the current in the air, if Cas is nervous to break it as much as Dean. Cas brushes their lips together, like he’s waiting for an invitation. 

Dean nods slightly, just in case. 

It seems to be all Cas needs before he slips a strong hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulls him in, tilting his head so their lips can slot together perfectly. Cas takes his time, his lips pressing, exploring, learning Dean’s mouth with each kiss. No one has ever kissed Dean like this. Like they mean it. 

Like Dean is something special. 

Dean presses back, just as intent on knowing Cas, knowing his mouth, knowing the way he tastes, and hopefully, eventually, knowing his heart. 

A laugh rumbles out of his chest and Cas’ hand slips when he pulls back to see what Dean’s laughing at. It mustn’t matter because Cas starts to laugh, the energy of the moment making them both giddy. Their laughter echoes around the dome, Cas’ deep rumble complimenting Dean’s higher pitch. 

_ Best second date ever and it isn’t even noon yet.  _

Cas leans in for a kiss, little breathy giggles still escaping his lips. “I would show you around a little more but you’ve been here already and I’ve accomplished what I came here to do, anyway.” Cas leads them out of the pergola and back to where they parked the bike. 

“Which was?” 

“To kiss you in the middle of the rotunda, of course.” Cas throws Dean a cheeky grin over his shoulder. He pulls their helmets out and hands Dean his. “The curved ceiling amplified our voices. Why do you think it sounded so cool when we were laughing?” He gives Dean’s chin strap a little tug before he climbs on the bike. Dean can only listen in awe. “I was here yesterday drawing, and that’s when the idea came to me.” Cas starts the bike when Dean wraps his arms around him and soon they’re back in the flow of traffic. 

Dean doesn’t know how a chance encounter in a coffee shop landed him on the back of this perfect man’s bike but he isn’t gonna question the universe’s plan for them too much. He’s used to everything turning to shit so Dean’s not about to rock this boat so soon. 

Cas drives them through the Presidio and tells Dean about its history. He knew it was a military base at some point but Dean had no idea what the city was doing now to preserve it as a National Park. The winding trails and eucalyptus trees grow tall, creating a canopy for them to drive under. Dean wasn’t lying when he told Cas it was his favorite part of the city. 

“There’s so much to do here, Dean. Crissy Field, Fort Point. I think we could spend an entire day exploring and still not see it all.” Cas’ tone is light but Dean hears the invitation hidden underneath. “Not to mention all the hiking trails overlooking the bay.” 

Dean tightens his hold around Cas. “I think that sounds like a plan. Weather should be just right for a day like that, soon.” He hopes Cas picks up on his innuendo too, the one that suggests future dates, future kisses. 

“It’s a date, then.” Dean can hear Cas’ grin as he leans the bike into a curve in the road, the bend taking them right onto the 101 Freeway. The Golden Gate Bridge looms above them and, as it always does, takes Dean’s breath away. Cas expertly maneuvers them between the lines of cars waiting to get on the bridge and soon, they’re driving past the thick, steel, suspension cables that connect to the rising tower above them. 

Cas is practically vibrating in his seat and he’s slowed the bike down considerably. 

“What happened to my chatty tour guide? Isn’t this one of the greatest landmarks in the world?” 

Cas takes an unusual amount of time to answer him and it makes Dean a little nervous.

“I wanted you to enjoy the crossing,” Cas blurts out, “without me talking all the way across. This bridge—” he sucks in a breath. “This bridge is a marvel, Dean. It’s the biggest reason I was so attracted to San Francisco in the first place.” 

Dean listens and waits for Cas to finish. 

“I could talk for hours about this bridge.” 

_ Yes, please.  _

“Well, let’s add it to the list.” Dean wishes he didn’t have a helmet separating him from being able to kiss Cas’ shoulder. “Why don’t you tell me your favorite thing now and then we’ll come back another day for you to tell me the rest.” 

Cas hums his agreement and takes a minute to pick his favorite fact. They’re almost passed the second tower and to the other side of the bridge when Cas spills. Dean pulls his attention away from the bay below them to focus on what Cas is saying.

“Oh, I’ve got it. The bridge has only been repainted once in its eighty year history. Apparently the lead based junk they used didn’t last longer than thirty years so in the 60s, she was repainted with a zinc silicate primer and vinyl top coats which is so much better.” 

_ Of course _ Cas’ favorite fact has to do with color, with paint, with making something better than what it started out as. 

“The official color of the bridge is an orange vermillion called ‘International Orange’. Makes it easier to see in the fog.” Cas guides the bike off the bridge and to the nearest exit, taking them up the hill and away from the freeway. “Not to mention, it’s very aesthetically pleasing.” 

**_You’re_ ** _ very aesthetically pleasing. _

They take a few more turns before Cas pulls over and parks them next to a steep drop in the hillside. There’s a few cars parked up there, tourists outside their cars to take photos of the view. 

Dean climbs off the bike and pulls his helmet off, focusing on the sight in front of him. The bridge they just crossed stretches over the bay to the rolling hills of the Presidio. The city behind it green with life and new beginnings. 

Spring always makes Dean feel new again. 

So does Cas’ hand slipping into his when Cas joins him at the edge of the cliff side. Dean takes a deep breath of cold air and his lungs burn. He looks over at Cas who has his eyes closed and his head tilted up towards the sun and Dean can’t help but stare until Cas cracks a grin and one eye to catch Dean in the act. He blushes and looks back over towards the bridge. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” Cas breathes into his ear, entering Dean’s personal space like he was always meant to be there. Cas slides an arm around his waist and rests his chin on Dean’s shoulder to share the view in front of them. The wind blows cool against their faces and the sounds of the people around them and the cars passing by slowly fade away. Cas’ hair tickles his cheek and his chest rising and falling with each breath against Dean’s shoulder is becoming his main focus. The twitch of Cas’ fingers on his hip and the sound of his breath moving past his lips makes Dean feel like he has tunnel vision, Cas being all he can focus on. 

Before Dean can turn and face him, Cas pulls away. “Ready?” Cas squeezes Dean’s hip. “Still lots to see.”

Dean nods. He needs a few minutes to regroup. “Let me grab a few pictures first.” His voice comes out rougher than he expects. 

Cas takes a step back and the sudden loss of warmth makes Dean regret it, instantly. He hears Cas walking back to the bike, and he pulls his phone out to at least appear like he's taking a few photos. 

He’s not sure what’s happening. Dean’s dated. He’s had a few relationships, Victor in high school and Lisa. With Victor it was new, exciting. First love, or whatever love meant to two sixteen-year-old boys figuring out their sexuality and dealing with puberty and all that comes with it at the same time. Victor was his best friend and Dean never hesitates to call him his first love. Halfway through their senior year, Victor’s dad got a promotion which came with relocation. To Japan. The two of them tried to stay close but drifted over time and it happened so naturally, it didn’t feel like a loss. 

They’re still friends on Facebook. Victor is married with a six-year-old daughter, a four-year-old son, and another on the way. Seeing him happy fills Dean with joy. 

And, in moments he’s most honest with himself, envy. 

Lisa was another story. Beautiful, headstrong, confident Lisa. She kept Dean on his toes and after his time in the Army, a civilian once again, she was everything he needed to distract himself from feeling like he was starting over. Back home in Lawrence, it felt like hitting reset but with absolutely no direction to go in. 

Dean hated it and he let Lisa distract him. There was a lot of drinking, a lot of drugs—Dean stuck to weed even when Lisa dabbled in more—a lot of sex, and a lot of stupid choices. He still cringes when he thinks about what they did. 

The night he drove the Impala into a ditch after a too close call with a semi was followed by an ass kicking from his dad and worst of all, the disappointment in Sam’s eyes. It’s what shook Dean straight. He took an opportunity offered by an old family friend and went through the police academy, joining the force in Lawrence a week after graduation. 

Lisa stuck around. Dean’s first fear was that she’d ditch him once he stopped partying, but she surprised him. It took a while, almost a year before she slowed down enough to notice. She stayed and Dean took it as some kind of fucked up pledge that she loved him enough to want to do this together. 

He put the down payment on an engagement ring and four days later, he walked in on Lisa and Cole on the light blue sheets he had just bought at Bed, Bath, and Beyond. 

Everything that followed was a whiskey soaked blur and when the alcohol ran out and Dean had to be sober again, he took himself to the range, shot his gun for a while, and felt like a new person when he walked out of the building that day. 

Dean didn’t know what the hell he was gonna do, but he knew he had options. He had a  _ choice _ to do whatever he wanted. It was the greatest feeling in the world. 

At least Dean thought. Until now. 

Until Cas. 

Dean knows it’s their second date. He  _ knows _ . But he can’t find it in himself to care. It’s their second date and already, Cas has made Dean feel worthy. His appraising gaze and confident smile make Dean happy and he shakes himself, realizing that he should look at that smile instead of thinking about how much he likes it. 

He turns around to see Cas on his bike, stretched out on the seat, his back against the swell of the handlebars. He’s wearing tight black pants that end a few inches above his ankles, a pair of Nike’s on his feet, black with a floral patch under the white swoop. His legs are crossed and the way he’s leaning makes his white henley ride up a little. Cas’ tattoos are fucking gorgeous in the sunlight. 

Dean snaps a picture before he lets his brain talk him out of it. 

The sheer balance required to hold such a pose,  _ on top of a bike _ , has to be immense and Cas makes it look easy. It's impressive. And hot. Cas glances up from his phone and grins his cocky grin at Dean. 

_ God damn mind reader. _

Cas’ smile widens as he sits up and drops his legs on either side of the bike. He pats the seat in front of him and holds his hand out to Dean. 

Dean can’t help but see it as an invitation. An opportunity. A  _ choice. _

When Cas’ long fingers wrap around his, Dean knows he made a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	5. Chapter 5

Cas tugs Dean closer, holding his hand tight when Dean swings his leg over the motorcycle. “I like to come up here sometimes, when it’s quiet,” Cas tells him as Dean straddles the bike to face him. “Great view of my bridge.” His face softens when he looks back towards the bay. A smile plays at his lips and he has creases near his eyes that Dean wants to touch.

_ God. He’s cute. _

Dean raises an eyebrow and tries to fight back his grin. “Dude, really?” 

Cas turns slowly back to him, his own eyebrow raised. Cas is doing a better job at controlling his face but Dean can still see the amusement sparkling in those blue eyes. 

“This coming from the guy who calls his car the love of his life?” 

_ Touche. _

Dean throws his head back and laughs, warmth blooming through him. When he looks back at Cas, he’s staring at Dean the same way he looked at the bridge and Dean’s laughter fades once he’s caught in Cas’ gaze. 

He’s drowning in pools of blue when Cas’ wide smile snaps him out of it. He leans in and Dean moves on auto pilot to help close the gap between them. 

“We should do more kissing now,” Cas suggests and  _ fuck yes they should.  _

Dean nods enthusiastically and flashes a smile at Cas before they’re on each other. Fuck, Cas’ lips are so soft and Dean wants to feel them everywhere. He slides closer to Cas, their knees knocking together. Cas swings one leg up and over Dean’s thigh, settling his foot on the back of the bike behind Dean and it brings them impossibly close. 

Dean can’t keep track of his thoughts. First of all, Cas is making it his job to learn every bit of Dean’s mouth and with every nip and suck at his lips, Dean loses a little more coherency. Add to that the weight of Cas’ thigh burning into his and the result is a very bewildered Dean Winchester. 

He never wants this to stop. Dean wraps an arm around Cas as Cas slips a hand between his flannel and his shirt, pressing his palm against Dean’s side. Cas is making small, content noises in the back of his throat while they kiss and Dean wants to drag more sounds from him, wants to know what Cas sounds like when he—   

“Get a room,” someone yells and they break apart, laughing. Dean’s cheeks grow warm when Cas thumbs at the corner of his mouth with a grin. He glances around and sees a group of teenagers sneaking glances at them and giggling and an older man glaring in their direction. 

Dean laughs and shakes his head. Can’t please everybody. 

Before Cas drops his leg down, he presses his heel to Dean’s back, pulling them together again. Cas is practically in Dean’s lap when he kisses him one more time before he turns around to face the front of the bike again. 

Dean breathes for what feels like the first time in hours. Cas’ muscles flex and move under his shirt as he pulls his jacket back on and Dean licks his lips and considers cutting their day short again. 

Cas gives him a quick look over his shoulder when he passes Dean his helmet, his eyes still smiling.  He drives them back towards the bridge, Dean’s arms tight around him. 

“Music okay?” Cas asks through the mic. “Any requests?” 

Oh, hell no. Dean is beyond curious to learn what kinda music Cas is into. He has his preferences—who doesn’t—but he wants to hear Cas’ first song he’d want to play for Dean. 

“Nah, I’m good with whatever. Surprise me,” Dean replies. He squeezes one of Cas’ hips in encouragement. 

They’re stuck in bridge traffic when Cas messes with his phone before taking off. A quick beat starts up, fingers snapping in the background. The bass is nice but it’s definitely nothing Dean’s ever taken time to listen to before. Cas bobs his head to the beat. 

**_Its two am and cold outside, is it too late to come, oh?_ _  
_ _I can’t even sleep at night, because, oh._ **

Cas weaves them between the cars and as they cross the bridge, the chorus of the song hits. 

****_Oh, twenty-five seven,_ __  
_I give you all my attention,_ _  
_ _Baby, you're my obsession._

The music makes the sound of the cars around them fade away as they ride, and all Dean hears is the bass, the trumpets, and Cas humming along. The wind is cool on his face and Cas is warm in his arms and yeah, this is something Dean can see himself getting used to, for sure. 

**_I give you love and affection_ _  
_ _Baby, you’re my obsession._ **

Dean thinks the song is fitting.

They ride a little longer once they get back to the city side of the bridge. Cas cuts back through the Presidio and Dean’s happy to be under the canopy of trees. It’s high noon, and the sun is being an asshole about it. Cas knows all the scenic routes it seems because they’re on a road overlooking the coast that Dean’s never been on. There’s a few cars but mostly just runners and bike riders. Cas slows the bike so Dean can appreciate the view. As they go, Cas has been pointing things out here and there. 

“There’s some awesome hiking trails down this way, if you’re into that.” 

Dean’s into anything Cas wants to get into with him. 

“Better start writing these down, Cas,” Dean teases. 

Cas huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “I kinda did already? When I was planning our date today, actually.” 

_ Cute. Adorable. Awesome.  _

Dean grins at the back of Cas’ head. “Our very own bucket list, you might say.” 

Cas’ laugh is really fucking nice. “I suppose so, Dean,” he replies through his laughter. 

“Make sure you add, ‘Cruising in Dean’s Baby’ towards the top,” Dean instructs. “I think you two will get along great.” He briefly imagines Cas under him in his backseat, flushed and wanting—  

Shit, they’re stopped again while Dean was distracted. The smell of food teases him and he looks around, seeing a small, red brick building; Louis’ in yellow cursive on the blue sign. Cas climbs off the bike and Dean follows, handing over his helmet to get placed under lock and key. 

“How do you feel about clam chowder?” Cas asks. 

“Think I could live here and not love it?”

Cas beams and guides him by the elbow towards the front door of the restaurant. “I mean, you can get good chowder almost anywhere around here but you cannot have it on a cliff side with this view.” 

Cas sweeps them over to a booth by the windows and Dean takes in the scene below them. It’s a weird kind of view, pools of water in strange shapes, almost as if filling a fallen structure. Waves crash beyond the seawall, white with foam in their fury. Dean can see a few caves and the curve of the coast beyond that. 

Cas is definitely right about the view.

Dean listens as Cas orders them lunch and why does he like that so much? Every meal they’ve shared, Cas has ordered for him and Dean’s let him without even thinking about it. Sam would be pissed, considering Dean always throws a small, but dignified tantrum anytime Sam tries to feed him anything weird. 

It’s gonna be fun to piss off the little giant with that information. 

Cas glances at him and smiles; it’s like the sun breaking through storm clouds. He draws his attention back to the waitress and Dean looks back out over the water, catching sight of his reflection in the glass as Cas finishes up. 

He runs a hand through his hair to try and fix the damage the helmet’s done. Cas smiles at him from across the table, reaching over to push a lock of hair from Dean’s forehead, his fingers brushing along Dean’s hairline. 

It’s soft and sweet, maybe too intimate for the lunch rush at Louis’ but Dean doesn’t care. He just smiles back and laces their fingers together to rest on the tabletop between them. 

Lunch is delicious and their conversation flows from favorite authors, to favorite bands, finally settling on favorite movies. They argue playfully over just how bad the revived Star Wars movies were; Cas in the “they aren’t so bad” camp and Dean firmly in the “hell no Cas, those movies were crap!” camp and when Cas proposes a rewatch to try and sway Dean, there’s no way he’d say no to that. 

“We gotta watch all three, make sure we’re being thorough,” Dean says, laying out his terms that he hopes Cas can see right through. Cas’ lips curl into a smirk and he nods his head. 

“I think you’re right, movie marathon day. Shall I add it to the list?” His eyes sparkle. 

“Please do, sir,” Dean answers as his mind races with the idea of him and Cas, curled up on his couch together under a blanket, Star Wars on in front of them. “I’ll provide the drinks if you bring some food.” 

“That can be arranged,” Cas replies with a wink as the waitress drops the check off. Dean grabs for it—Cas has paid for everything and Dean wants a turn—and snags the check before Cas can. 

Cas narrows his eyes and looks like he’s figuring out whether or not making a fuss is worth it. It’s adorable. 

Dean shakes his head and one finger at Cas. “My turn.” 

Cas stares at him for another moment before his face relaxes into something less calculating and pulls Dean towards him for a soft kiss. He drags his lips across Dean’s cheek to lean in and say, “Fine, but I’m buying dinner.” He stands and pulls Dean out of the booth and all Dean can do is stare as he heads for the door, Dean tripping over his own feet to follow. 

While he pays, Dean keeps getting distracted by Cas standing outside the door, looking out over the ocean. Most people would check their phones but Cas looks content to stand there, the wind whipping through his hair. He closes his eyes and tilts his face up to the sun again and Dean can’t stop staring. 

A low whistle of appreciation snaps Dean’s attention back towards their waitress who’s now processing Dean’s credit card. She quirks an eyebrow at Dean when she turns back to him after checking out his date. He scowls, and she laughs. “Lighten up, he’s not my type. Too many extra parts.” Dean blinks in surprise at her candor. “Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a fine looking man, however.” She winks and hands him his receipt. 

He has enough manners to stammer out his thanks before he walks outside. He must still look awe struck because Cas comments right away on his appearance. 

“Dean, are you ok?” Fingers circle his wrist. 

“Our waitress, she thought you were hot.” He finally looks at Cas whose mouth twitches as he tries not to laugh. 

“I hope you gave her a big tip,” Cas says with a laugh and a glance over Dean’s shoulder. He raises his arm and Dean watches as he blows a kiss towards the building and gives his fingers a wiggle. Dean snorts a laugh through his nose as he grabs Cas by the hand to pull him back towards the bike. 

They’re both laughing when Cas winds their fingers together. Dean likes the way their hands fit. 

Cas takes them down a winding path towards the cliff side and down to the caves, explaining to Dean that long ago, an enormous bathhouse stood here, long since gone thanks to a massive fire that decimated the building. 

“It burned down in the 60s,” Cas continues as they approach the railing protecting them from going over the side. He props a hip against it and tugs Dean to his side. 

“I'm not boring you? Truly?” He tilts his head up at Dean and runs his fingers up Dean's arm. “You'd tell me if I was?”

Dean holds him lightly by the chin. “I will kick the ass of whoever told you that you were boring, even for a second.” 

Cas’ eyes soften, the lines of his furrowed brow smoothing out. He turns his head away, almost like he wants to protect that side of himself. 

Dean swallows, and gives Cas a minute, thinks about how much he'd like to see that part of Cas. The part he keeps to himself. 

Sammy’d never let him live it down and Dean would never admit it but he has a bit of a soft side. 

_ *cough*The Notebook*cough* _

Ok. Dean's a huge softie. Chick flicks, sure sign him the fuck up. Crying during that commercial with the dogs and Sarah McLachlan singing, who doesn't, honestly? 

He's allergic, and he's supposed to hate them but Dean has always wanted a cat. A fluffy one that will sleep on his head. 

He loves art and quiet galleries and going out for wine just as much as he loves going to the batting cages. 

Dean likes staying in during storms under soft sheets with music playing while he reads or writes or does whatever he wants to relax. 

He wants to see the softer side of Cas that he's caught glimpses of and he wants Cas to know the part of himself Dean keeps safe. 

Dean wants to be real with Cas. The thought catches him off balance as much as anything because again, this is only their second date and how can he already be thinking about this so much? Something about Cas is different, Dean can feel it. 

He contemplates that as they walk a few of the nearby trails. Before, with Lisa, it took Dean a long time to be in a place where he thought he could be himself. Between their party days and all the time Dean spent getting himself straightened out, it wasn't until the later part of their relationship that Dean felt comfortable enough to try and drop some of his facades. 

Lisa never responded well. 

Maybe Dean didn't want her to. 

Maybe instead, he was headed towards this gorgeous man tugging on his hand to show Dean a little black bird flapping around in a puddle from the rain showers they've been having all week, blue eyes lit up. 

Cas watches the bird fly away and Dean watches Cas. Cas smiles and wishes the bird well and when he laughs, he looks back at Dean. His nose is scrunched and his smile is wide and gummy and this time it's Dean that needs to kiss Cas so he does, pulling the smiling man to him. 

Cas comes, a willing party. 

Dean kisses him right in the middle of the trail. He wraps his arms around Cas’ hips and Cas loops his arms around Dean's neck and they stay pressed together, ignoring the cyclists passing on their right and the runners passing on their left. 

***

They make their way back to the bike eventually. They walked a lot and Cas pointed out a few beaches for their bucket list and he held Dean's hand while they explored and it was  _ nice.  _

It's also awesome that Cas is so eager to plan future dates. Their conversation flows so easily, Dean's surprised to check his watch and see that it's almost six and his stomach reminds him soon after, waiting until he's wrapped around Cas as they head away from Sutro Baths. 

_ Son of a bitch.  _

“Was that your stomach?” Cas teases. “Did we work up an appetite with all that walking?”

“All the kissing, more like,” Dean flirts back. 

_ Shit, this is fun.  _

Cas laughs. “One more stop and then we have reservations.”

Deans stomach growls again. 

_ Un-fucking-believable.  _

“OK, all right, settle down, it's a quick stop,” Cas surrenders with mirth. 

“Laugh it up, chuckles,” Dean says with an amused huff and a squeeze to Cas’ hip. 

Dean's never flirted on the back of a motorcycle before. He might want to do it more often. 

Cas parks the bike next to a beach that looks vaguely familiar to Dean. He might have come here with Sam to toss a football before but he can’t be sure. As they walk towards the water, Cas laces their hands together. Dean looks at him but he’s looking ahead at the water, his eyes sweeping around the beach. Dean follows his gaze, taking in a few people sitting on blankets, a couple walking as their dog plays in the surf. 

Cas tugs him down into the sand and it’s still warm from the sun.

Sunset is starting and now Dean can see why Cas brought him here. The sun glows at the horizon and sets the sky on fire. Orange burns into blue, shades of purple and pink crisscrossing where the clouds meet. Dean’s mouth falls open in awe and he looks to see Cas’ reaction.

Next to him, Cas settles back on his hands, content as he studies the sky, and mutters under his breath, “sapphire, bumblebee, definitely lilac.” He bites his bottom lip and Dean can’t tear his eyes away from Cas’ mouth. “Mmm amaranth, nice.” 

_ Amaranth. The fuck? _

“Ok, you lost me at—what did you say? Amaranth?” Dean blurts out, startling Cas. 

“What?” He sits up and looks at Dean. “Did I say that out loud?” 

_ Fuck, he’s cute when he’s flustered. _

Cas ducks his head, a small smile playing at his lips. He huffs out a laugh. “My apologies, Dean. I didn’t realize I was doing that.” 

Dean nudges him with his shoulder and looks up at the sky, gesturing towards it with his chin as Cas turns his head. “Which one is amaranth? Never heard of that color before.” 

He can see Cas’ shoulder’s relax out of the corner of his eye. 

“It’s the pinkish hue, just there,” Cas points and gestures across the sky. “It’s more of a carnation, now though.” 

Carnation, bumblebee,  _ amaranth _ . Dean realizes that Cas sees the world in a completely different way and he thinks that’s beautiful. Man but does he want Cas to show him. 

“Guess you’ll have to point it out next time,” Dean suggests, his tone light. 

Cas presses his shoulder into Dean and hums in agreement. Dean can feel Cas’ warmth through his layers so he leans into it. 

And then Cas is kissing him as the sun disappears beyond what they can see, the sky giving its last performance of the day, the colors of the fading light painting their faces.

They miss the show but Dean doesn’t care because,  _ next time. _

There’s no light left in the sky when they leave the beach, their lips kiss swollen. It doesn’t stop Cas from kissing Dean softly before they pull their helmets back on, making him shiver. Cas is so tender, and it’s been a long time since anyone’s been tender with Dean. If he thinks hard enough, Victor is the only person who springs to mind as someone Dean could be himself with, someone who made Dean feel like he meant something. 

They ride through the city, dark now, the streetlights flashing as they drive under them. Cas has music playing again, this time something with a beat but relaxed, soothing. Dean can hear scratches and record pops in the track, complimenting the chill beats. It makes the moment feel almost surreal in its comforting sound. 

He leans into Cas and asks, “what are we listening to?” 

Cas pushes back into Dean as he answers, “it’s called Lo-Fi hip hop. Do you like it?” 

Dean’s never considered himself a hip hop guy,  _ at all _ but he’s always open to new things. It seems like Cas might bring a lot of new things to his life. He’s hopeful, anyway. 

“Yeah, it’s really nice. Relaxing.” 

“I’m glad you like it,” Cas says and Dean can hear him smiling again. “I like to listen to it while I paint, or just like this, driving around the city.” 

“Do you take a lot of drives?” 

“I do, sometimes. It’s easy to lose yourself out on the road, you know?” 

Dean knows. It’s his second favorite thing to do, after—  

_ Ok, no thinking about sex, no thinking about sex while you’re wrapped around the hottest freakin’ guy you’ve ever met, Winchester. _

He coughs. “Yeah, I get it. Drove myself here from Kansas when I moved. There’s something about a dark highway in the middle of the night.” Cas nods in agreement. “Real easy to let your thoughts wander, if you can’t turn them off.”

Cas huffs out a laugh. “Tell me about it.”

They pull up to a nondescript building, nothing at all to write home about. It has small red awnings and the name Espetus in cursive with a yellow flame above it on the corner of the building. Big bay windows show a warm interior and it smells fucking amazing. 

“So, you mentioned meat and potatoes before,” Cas gestures at the restaurant. “Ever been to a Brazilian steakhouse?” 

Dean’s eyes light up. “For real?” 

_ Hell yes! _

“Ok, don’t laugh,” Dean’s excited now. “I was watching Unique Eats, and they reviewed one of these places in New York!” 

Castiel bursts out a throaty laugh. “Cooking Channel fan, are we?” 

“Food fan, Cas. I love food.” Dean doesn’t even care if Cas thinks he’s ridiculous because he fucking loves food and it’s something Cas needs to know. 

Dean rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. The meat isn’t gonna eat itself. Cas chuckles at his impatience. 

“It’s going to be worth all this waiting you’re doing, I swear.” Cas winks as he opens the door for Dean to enter first. “Plus our reservation is for,” he checks his watch. “Now, as a matter of fact.” 

The inside of the restaurant is huge but the dark walls and soft lighting makes it feel intimate. Roasting steak makes Dean’s mouth water, and he’s almost skipping as they’re escorted to their table. He bounces in his seat when they get there. 

Cas is looking at him funny and Dean freezes. “What? What’s wrong?” 

He cracks a sly grin. “Your enthusiasm is really fucking cute.” Cas leans towards Dean. “Has anyone ever told you how fucking cute you are, Officer?” 

Dean knows he’s probably three shades of red and as he idly wonders what colors Cas sees, he tries his hardest to stammer something out.  _ Anything. _

He clears his throat. “Only you, far as I can remember.” 

Cas looks pleased at this and leans back to look down. His eyes trace over the menu and he looks up at Dean through his lashes before he asks, “Any preferences?”

“Meat, Cas.” Dean drums his hands on the table. “ _ Meat. _ ”

Cas chuckles and nods thoughtfully. “Are you beer guy only or is Sangria okay?” 

Dean flashes him a thumbs up as their waiter approaches. He explains how the restaurant works; they can pick seven types of meat, appetizers, and there’s a salad bar. The best part, and something that makes Dean fall for Cas a smidge more is that Cas brought him to an  _ All You Can Eat _ Brazilian Steakhouse and how the hell did he manage to make all of Dean’s dreams come true? 

When they need more food, they turn a small coin on the end of the table to its green side and grilled meat appears as if by magic. Dean isn’t even embarrassed about pulling out his phone to take pictures. 

“Sam is gonna be so jealous,” he says joyfully. 

Cas laughs. “So, what? Is it just a big brother thing?”

Dean cocks his head, pausing as he texts the pictures to Sam and Charlie. “What?” 

Cas raises an eyebrow at him—  

_ Yes, that’s hot, god can he give it a rest for a second? _

“Tormenting little brothers,” he says flatly, his lips twitching in amusement. 

“It’s a skill,” Dean says with pride. “If I don’t torture Sammy, who will?” He widens his eyes. “Who will, Cas?”

Cas stares at him blankly for a moment and then leans in and reaches out his hand. Dean stares him down and squeezes his jaw tight when Cas reaches his fingertips into his water glass and flicks them at Dean. 

Dean takes his napkin and wipes his face dry. “See, years of experience keeping my cool pays off.” 

Cas dissolves into laughter and holds his glass of Sangria up. Dean’s smile stretches across his face as he raises his own glass. Cas tangles their feet together under the table.

“To our bucket list,” Cas toasts with a devilish grin. Dean clinks his glass against Cas’. 

“You’re pretty good at these toasts,” Dean flirts before they dig into their food. 

It’s  _ good.  _ It’s so good, everything Dean was hoping when he saw the episode on TV. He slowly becomes aware that he’s getting full but the meat and the sangria just keep coming and their conversation is easy and Dean is about one more green coin away from the meat sweats. He throws in the towel, literally tossing his cloth napkin onto his plate. 

“No more, I surrender,” he moans to Cas, throwing his hands up. 

“Officer,” Cas admonishes. “I thought you’d be able to go a few more rounds.” 

_ Cocky asshole. Why is that so hot? _

Dean glares. “How are you still eating?” He considers popping the button of his jeans. “How many—” 

“Fourteen.” Cas cuts him off. “Gabe and I celebrated here after I finished a half marathon. I was starving and Gabriel is a bottomless pit always.” 

_ Fourteen, holy shit that’s impressive. _

“Cas, I would need to prep, like no eating all day and shit but I bet we could beat your record.” Give Dean a goal and he will kill it. He wonders if this place has a dress code, and he peers around to see what people are wearing because sweatpants would give them both an advantage. Dean turns back to ask Cas and sees his heated gaze pinned on him. 

It’s way too easy for Dean to get lost in those eyes. They stare and Cas’ eyes drop to Dean’s mouth after a minute and Dean flicks his tongue out without thinking, wetting his lips.

Cas’ arm shoots up for the check. 

He practically drags Dean out of the restaurant and Dean wishes the delicious meat farewell as he laughs after Cas. Cas pulls Dean to him and tugs his earlobe into his mouth before speaking hotly into his ear. “You’re going to be the death of me, Dean Winchester.” 

Dean grins so hard his cheeks hurt, and he tightens his hold. He presses their faces together. “Nightcap?” Dean’s own breathlessness surprises him. 

Cas shoves his helmet into his hands and climbs on the bike to keep it steady so Dean can follow. Dean slides as close to Cas’ back as he can and tightens his thighs and splays his hands on Cas’ stomach and flutters his fingers up and down. Cas’ muscles jump under his fingertips. 

They’re blocks away and anticipation boils under Dean’s skin. It’s been a long time since he’s done anything with anyone but himself and nerves spike in his belly. Everything so far with Cas has clicked with complete ease and fuck, he’s so good with his mouth and Dean fucking wants him so bad—  

“Do you mind if we stop and park my bike? We can walk to your place,” Cas interrupts. 

“How close are you?”  _ How far do I have to walk before I can get you in my bed? _

“Between you and the coffee shop.” 

_ One and a half blocks, give or take. Awesome. _

“Works for me, Cas.” 

They pull into a small garage and Dean sees another bike, but it’s too dark to make out what kind it is. He hopes to see it another day. Dean waits by the door as Cas locks the bike and opens the door that must lead to his place, grabbing something from inside and shoving it in his pocket. He grins in the dark and ushers Dean back outside, locking the door behind them. He leans against the closed door and looks at Dean through his long lashes. Cas sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and releases it slow and Dean can only groan and melt into him, his hands on either side of Cas’ head. The rough wood scratches his palms as Cas’ lips meet his, biting at Dean with little nips and drags of his teeth. 

The night is still when they break apart, panting into each other’s mouth and pressing their foreheads together. Cas pushes against Dean with an eyebrow cocked and Dean just shrugs and wraps his arm around Cas’ waist as they walk. Cas slips his hand into Dean’s back pocket and his palm is warm and it’s all Dean can think about and he wonders how fast can Cas walk? 

What a fucking day it’s been. Dean could never have dreamed their date would have gone so perfectly. Their conversation flowed, stopping and starting again with ease. Dean appreciated that Cas didn’t mind moments of quiet, pauses between them that he didn’t feel the need to fill with noise. 

And he wasn’t one of those people that always had their phone out. Sam was one of those people. Charlie was definitely one. It’s not that Dean minded really, he liked to post shit on Instagram sometimes; beers, maybe an outfit he thought he looked good in, a decent sunset. Dean’s pretty sure Cas only ever had his phone out when he had music playing for them which means Dean had his out way more. 

_ Shit, am  _ I  _ one of those people? _

Dean shakes off the thought. Ridiculous. 

They get to his front door and Cas leans against the entryway as Dean fumbles with his keys. Cas’ hot breath drifts over his neck making Dean’s hands clench into fists. 

“Problem, Officer?” Cas purrs, his voice all gravel and whiskey. Dean drops his keys. 

He’s cold when Cas steps back again, the cool night air rushing over his burning skin, scorched by Cas’ heat. It helps clear his head, and he opens the door, clicking on the hall light. He shares the entryway with his neighbors, twins named Max and Alicia. They’re fucking awesome, introducing themselves to Dean by inviting him over to their place and promptly offering him a hit off their bong. Dean accepted and laughed through an exhale when Max asked what he did for a living, coughing out that he was a cop. At that point of the night, it was hysterical and the three of them became fast friends. They have dinner and drinks a few times a month now. 

Dean ushers Cas up the stairs, watching as his fingers trail over the photographs pinned along the hallway. “These photos are beautiful, Dean. Are they yours?” 

Dean huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “Uh, a few.” He gestures at a photo of the Bay Bridge, lit up at night, its lights reflecting in the bay. “That one’s mine.” He glances around and sees another towards the top. “One up there I took at a baseball game. My neighbor Max took the others, he’s a photographer.” 

Cas looks back at him in interest. “He’s very talented.” 

Max’s photos  _ are  _ beautiful and Dean loves when he comes home to see that Max has swapped the photos in the hall. He never knows what to expect. Once there was a series of bikers racing down hills. Another time, progressive shots of two men making love, shot in black and white. Dean couldn’t get in and out of his building without a boner for a week. 

“He is,” Dean agrees. “Changes out the photos every week or so. Max has all my film, so it makes sense some of my shots end up mixed in.” 

It’s taking forever to get up the stairs, Cas taking time to look at each photo as they pass. Dean leans against the wall and watches him. 

Cas tilts his head at Dean. “He has your film? I don’t understand.” 

They move onto the next photo and Dean fidgets. No one knows about this hobby. Anytime Sam or Charlie have come over, they’ve never asked if any of the photos were Dean’s and he’s never told them. Sometimes he thinks he has an eye for it but mostly it’s just a relaxing hobby. Max caught him studying the photos one day and offered to show Dean how to use his camera. He was hesitant to accept at first but once they had gone out a few times to shoot, Dean was happy the offer was extended. It didn’t hurt that Max was a cool guy to hang out with. 

Max had a dark room and develops all their film himself which is why he had access to all of Dean’s photos. When Max asked permission to use a few, Dean didn’t hesitate to say yes, as long as Max showed him the dark room one day. It was an easy negotiation between the two neighbors. Like he said, they’re cool. 

Dean takes a deep breath and drops his head back against the wall. “Photography’s kinda becoming a hobby of mine.” Cas’ eyes light up. “Max has been showing me how to use my camera and he has a dark room so,” he gestures at the picture in front of them; they’ve finally reached the top of the stairs. 

“If he knows I have something that fits his vision for the week, he prints it. This one I took over at AT&T Park, few months back.” He rubs his neck. “It’s nothin’ special.” 

Cas shakes his head. “It’s vibrant. I assume it’s your legs here?” The photo shows Dean’s legs sprawled open on the chair in front of him, white Chucks on his feet in focus and the field blurred behind them. The sky is a bright blue, giving away the perfect day for baseball. 

Dean nods. 

“I love the contrast of your clean, white shoes against the background of the field.” Cas hums thoughtfully. “Reminds me of summer.” 

Pride blooms in Dean’s chest because that is exactly how he feels when he looks at the photo. Dean unlocks his door and pulls Cas inside, more and more eager to kiss him senseless. Cas presses up against him as he locks the door, strong arms hooking around his waist.

“Will you show me more of your photos, Dean,” Cas murmurs in his ear. Dean breathes through his nose and secures the sliding lock before he turns in Cas’ arms. 

He runs his nose along Cas’ jaw, plucking a kiss there. “I’d love to, Cas.” 

And then Cas kisses him and everything else just kinda flickers out.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Obsession](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nbjX2dCVJYI) \- Vice, Jon Bellion  
> [Lo-Fi Hiphop](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hHW1oY26kxQ)
> 
> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	6. Chapter 6

The kissing stops, eventually, much to Dean’s discontent. Cas pulls them apart to allow them to catch their breath. 

He presses his forehead to Dean’s. “Aren’t you going to offer me a drink, Officer?” He’s a little breathless and fuck, it’s hot. Cas shrugs out of his jacket and Dean has to swallow back a groan at the sight of his forearms, his tattoo looking hot as ever. 

Dean gives Cas one more kiss before he hangs up his jacket and takes his hand to give him the nickel tour of his apartment. He has the smaller of the two units but his has the balcony and Dean doesn’t need an extra room, anyway. The living room is cozy; Dean’s gray sofa pressed against the wall opposite a small fireplace with his flat screen above it. A bookshelf fills the space between the fireplace and the other wall, crammed with books, DVDs, and Dean’s PlayStation. 

The room has a bay window and one of the first things Dean did was turn it into a window seat with some Ikea hacks he found on Pinterest. Now it was one of his favorite places in the house, with the soft pillows and heavy blankets he has piled there. He’d like to get Cas wrapped up in his little nest on a rainy day. 

Dean lets himself imagine such a scenario until Cas is clearing his throat and looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He flushes and continues the tour, pulling Cas into the kitchen. They have to pass the small hallway that leads to his bedroom, and he glosses over it, a little nervous now. He tries to remember if he made his bed but this morning feels like it was ages ago. Maybe he can duck in there and straighten up without Cas noticing. 

Cas examines his fridge, covered in pictures and silly magnets Dean’s collected during his travels. Dean pops the cork on a bottle of red wine left over from his last dinner with Max and Alicia and pours them both a glass.

“Is this Sam?” Cas is looking at a picture of him and Sam from Sam’s high school graduation. Four years ago and so much has changed for the brothers. He glances at Cas and Dean can’t help but think for the better. 

He clears his throat and passes Cas his wine. “Sam’s graduation. Next day, he left for Stanford.”

“And how long until you followed?” 

Dean sips his wine before answering. “Coupla years. We kinda crossed paths, I got home from the army just as he was leaving and it was too quick,” The story is tumbling out of his mouth and he can’t seem to stop it. “And then I went a little crazy,” Cas looks at him sharply. “I mean, wild?” he rubs the back of his neck. “That’s when I met my ex and Sam was gone and I was just kinda—lost, you know?” 

_ Stop talking, stop talking. _

“Anyway. Took a few years to get myself straightened out and I guess that was uh,  _ boring. _ ” 

Cas’ eyes have drifted back to the fridge, focused on the picture of Sam and Dean on the day he graduated from boot camp. Dean’s eighteen and Sam hasn’t had his growth spurt. His uniform is trim and his smile is cocky. Next to that is a strip of Dean’s precinct photos. He’s wearing his dress blues and his hat and his face is serious. Professional. 

He looks back at Dean and taps on his army picture. “Is that what happened to him?” 

Shame burns under Dean’s skin because it’s a good question. He doesn’t know that kid very well anymore. But recent events have reminded him and he kinda feels like this is a conversation for the ninth or tenth date but fuck, it’s all felt different since it started so why the hell shouldn’t Dean dive in? 

“He’s here,” Dean cups Cas’ cheek and turns his face to look at Dean again. Blue eyes focus on him, filled with concern, probably because Dean’s red, considering how his face burns. “I’ve been seeing him around.” 

Cas’ eyes soften and Dean steps into his personal space to take his mouth. Plush lips pillow his and push back, just as eager for Dean. Cas’ mouth falls open with a groan Dean feels in his toes and Dean takes what’s offered and slides his tongue to meet Cas’.  _ Fuck, Cas is good at this. _

Cas tastes like cherries and he growls into Dean’s mouth as he pulls them apart. Dean’s going to need to talk to him about that. 

He grabs the bottle of wine and motions for Cas to follow him back to the living room, noting the way Cas looks down the hallway curiously. Dean smirks before he sits and puts the bottle on the table in front of the sofa. Cas comes to stand by his side but he sips his wine and studies the photo Dean has on the wall behind the couch. 

It’s the last photo he took before he drove out of Kansas. It’s an open valley at sunset, the sky infused with color. The light casts a glow over everything, wildflowers fluttering in the wind. A corner of the Impala is there, gold light reflecting off her gleaming finish.

“This is yours,” Cas states more than asks. 

Dean hums. “Kansas.” 

Cas’ face turns thoughtful, and he nods before he sits next to Dean on the couch. “You’ve been here how long?” 

“Just about six months.” Dean refills both their glasses. “You?” 

“Five years, almost.” Cas accepts the refilled glass.

“And?” Dean asks. “How’s it been?” 

“Great, I love it here. I can be myself here so it’s a very good place for me.” He smiles up at Dean and Dean wants to know more. Before he can ask, Cas leans towards him. 

“Didn’t you say you had a balcony?” 

By process of elimination, Dean realizes Cas has figured out that he hasn’t seen the balcony because he hasn’t seen the last room of the house. 

Dean gathers up his courage and the bottle it came in and leads Cas down the hall. His bedroom isn’t huge by any means but, like the living room, it’s cozy. The door to the bathroom is to the right, his closet next to it. His bed sits in front of them, made,  _ thank fuck _ and glowing in the moonlight that’s pouring through the sliding door leading to the balcony. It faces the quieter side of the street and Dean’s set it up to be a nice space to relax. 

His BBQ is out there with a little table and chairs, and a few plants with solar lights wrapped through them. Now that it’s dark, glowing balls of blue, green, white, and red make the space glow. Cas’ mouth tilts up into a smile when Dean opens the slider and holds an arm out to welcome him into the space. 

Cas spins a little to take it in and beams at Dean as he puts the wine bottle down. “I love this. Almost as much as that reading nook in there.” He pokes at a dangling blue light. “These are solar? You did all this?” 

Dean nods and leans against the balcony where it hits right above his hips. The railing is wooden but with thick vertical slats so people walking below can’t see up into his windows. He’ll confess to no one that he sunbathes out here naked when the weather is right. 

“Wasn’t too hard. Few trips to the hardware store.” Dean tries to be modest because it wasn’t really much but Cas seems to like it a lot. 

“We have this massive rooftop space and no idea what to do with it. Maybe you can come take a look.” Cas looks too excited for Dean to take it as a line. 

“I’d love to,” Dean agrees. “Just say the word, the Impala has a huge trunk.” 

“Sounds murderous,” Cas says dryly. 

“I had to leave Kansas for a reason,” Dean bounces his eyebrows. “Trunk full of bodies.” 

“Can you even joke like that when you’re a cop?” Cas teases. 

“Why do you think I haven’t gotten caught?” 

“Oh my god, I’m going to be on an episode of The First 48, aren’t I?” 

Dean cracks up and Cas laughs with him, their joy echoing off the surrounding buildings and into the night. It’s late, the streets are all quiet and they stand together and catch their breaths, fond smiles on both their faces. 

Dean traces his finger along Cas’ arm resting on the railing. “Tell me more about you, Cas.” 

Sadness flashes in Cas’ eyes before he covers it with a smirk and gestures down at himself. 

“Since we're talking about the good old days,” Cas says with surprising sarcasm. “What you see in front of you is not who I was raised to be.” Cas snaps to attention. “I was a very ‘ _ serious’  _ child,” he says with air quotes and a twist of his mouth on the word. He says it like an insult. 

“No fun at all.” Cas leans over the balcony to look down before digging his glasses out of his pocket, followed by a slim, silver electronic vape pen. He lets the amber liquid settle before he presses a little button and takes a pull. 

_ Why the fuck does everyone want to smoke weed in front of him? _

Cas tilts his head back as he holds in the smoke, rolling his eyes to look at Dean as he exhales, white smoke filling the sky. “What? It’s legal now.” 

Dean rolls his eyes and gestures for the pen. “I know that, it’s my  _ job  _ to know that. It’s just so—casual. I dunno, I guess that’s the Kansas boy in me talkin’.” Dean holds down the button and takes a pull, the smoke filling his lungs. It burns just right in the back of his throat, itching to be released. Dean counts to five before he blows it out. He swallows back a cough and looks over at Cas, finding Cas’ eyes glued to his mouth. A lazy gaze drags up his face and Cas smiles brightly before grabbing Dean by the back of the head and crashing their mouths together. 

Cas sure knows how to change the subject, Dean’s learning.

He pushes at Dean’s flannel, peeling it off both shoulders at once. Dean gets a little caught, and he breaks the seal of their mouths with a laugh. The hit he took is already rolling under his skin and behind his eyes. It’s a good kind of buzz. 

“You are,” Cas nips at Dean’s lips. “Without a doubt,” he drags his fingers through Dean’s hair. “The hottest man I’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” his mouth is hot when he presses them together and Dean gets dizzy off the taste of Cas’ mouth, the spice left behind by the smoke and something else, something Dean’s tasted all day which Dean concludes must be Cas himself. 

Fuck the wine, Dean’s drunk off Cas. 

He takes his fill and Cas lets him, molding their bodies together, Cas’ hips sharp against him. Every one of Dean’s nerve endings sing, the weed definitely kicking in. He feels loose, relaxed, and he gasps away and lolls his head over to Cas’ shoulder, pressing a kiss there. He buries his nose in the crook of Cas’ neck, mumbling, “you smell so fucking good, Cas,” to which Cas grips Dean’s hair to pull his face up so he can kiss Dean stupid. 

His lips feel like they’re fucking vibrating. But it must be Cas because when he kisses Dean’s neck, his skin’s hot where Cas’ mouth has been. He tilts his head to give Cas more access and he takes it, nipping and sucking at Dean’s collarbones, his perfect mouth working up the length of Dean’s throat, teeth sinking in at the bolt of Dean’s jaw. 

“God, your mouth.” 

Cas smirks against Dean’s cheek. “It’s Castiel, actually,” he murmurs. 

Dean doesn’t think he heard right but he can’t be sure. He pulls back to meet Cas’ eyes. “What was that?” 

Cas ducks his head. “My name. My name is Castiel.” He flicks his tongue against Dean’s ear. “But I prefer Cas.” 

_ Castiel. Castiel. _

Dean likes it, Dean likes everything about Cas and if that’s what he prefers, well Dean likes that too.

“Cas it is, then,” Dean says as an excuse to bring their mouths together again. Cas indulges him for a while longer before he breaks away for another pull from his pen. He passes it to Dean who does the same. 

“It’s called Northern Lights. Hope you’re ok with Indica’s.” 

Dean shrugs. A little couch lock never hurt. “Is it gonna lay us out or what?” 

“It might, depending on how often you partake.” 

“Often enough, I guess.” Dean’s legs are getting a little heavy but also—his stomach growls.

Cas smirks and walks his fingers across Dean’s stomach. “It will also give you some wicked munchies.” 

Dean perks up. Munchies he can do. He better do it quick before this hit kicks in so he escorts them back inside, settling Cas on the couch and promising snacks. He turns a knob and the gas fireplace starts up. Dean leaves the hall light on and turns off the overhead, bathing the room in the residual light and the glow of the fire. Cas kicks his shoes off before settling into the couch. 

Dean throws his boots in his closet before attacking the kitchen, pulling out some hummus and veggies, and turning on the oven to let it pre-heat while he fills a baking tray with spoon fulls of cookie dough. He throws them in and takes the veggies out to Cas, along with the last bottle of wine. He goes back for a box of sea salt crackers and comes back to Cas digging into the hummus already, moaning around his first bite. “Did you make this?”

Dean freezes, a bite halfway to his mouth. He shoves it in to cover up his surprise, gives himself enough time to swallow and answer. “Yeah, it’s jalapeno cilantro. You like it?” Dean’s suddenly concerned. “You’re not one of those weird people that taste soap when they eat cilantro, are you?” 

“No, thank fuck.” Cas groans again around another bite. “This is fucking fantastic.” 

Dean is pleased. They snack and Cas asks him about cooking and food and those are some of Dean’s favorite subjects so he’s happy to tell Cas anything he wants to know. Halfway through his story about a wild Korean market he goes to, the timer on the oven goes off. 

“You’re baking too?” Cas cocks an eyebrow. “Need some help?” 

Cas jumps up and follows Dean to the kitchen, squeezing Dean’s hips as they walk. He can’t keep his hands to himself and Dean loves it. Cas sits up on the counter when Dean pulls the cookies out of the oven, his mouth twisting into a soft smile 

Dean plates the cookies to cool and smiles back at Cas. He turns towards the sink to fill two glasses with water and settles between Cas’ open legs to deliver his glass. “I thought you were gonna help,” Dean teases. 

Cas chuckles. “I am helping. Someone has to look cute while you cook.”

“That so?” Dean pulls Cas down by the back of the neck. “Well then, you’re doing a great job, Cas.” 

They kiss until their lips are chapped and the cookies are cool. Dean moves some to a plate and they make their way back to the couch. 

They eat and they talk, and they smoke and they kiss. Cas ends up in Dean’s lap, his legs wrapped around Dean in some kind of bendy yoga pose. At one point, Cas bends backwards to reach his wine glass and his shirt rides up, exposing his gorgeous abs, painted with designs Dean only gets a glimpse of. 

“Just how bendy are you,” he asks, Dean’s voice rough with lust. 

Cas just smiles and drinks his wine. He looks at Dean thoughtfully for a moment before he leans down and kisses him. Dean’s beyond caring about the whine that leaves his mouth when Cas slides off his lap and moves Dean up into sitting position. He was so comfortable too. 

Dean pulls Cas’ hand into his lap and drags his fingers along Cas’ honeycomb tattoo. If Cas is gonna let him touch, Dean’s gonna take advantage. He strokes along the vines snaking up Cas’ arm. Dean feels like he’s floating, Cas’ skin soft under his touch and his blood buzzing pleasantly under his skin. 

Cas’ voice is like honey when he starts to talk. Dean likes it a lot. 

“Dean, hey—”  A finger taps Dean’s nose, and he nips at it. “May I speak frankly?”

“Always, Cas. Please.” Dean always wants the truth even if it sucks sometimes. Better to know, he’s learned. 

Cas situates them so they’re both sitting cross legged and facing each other. Dean loves when Cas pulls his hands into his lap. Cas leans forward and Dean mimics him, the space between them shrinking. Their foreheads tip together. 

“Dean, I really want to fuck you,” Cas breathes out, a rush of warm air on Dean’s lips. 

_ Yesyesyesyes.  _

_ Please. _

Dean licks his lips and inhales deeply, holding his breath for a moment before letting it out slowly. “I would—I’d also like to—”  

Cas chuckles and tips their mouths together. “The only problem is—”  

_ Problem? We don’t have a problem  _ **_at all_ ** .

“—I’m beginning to really,  _ really _ like you.” 

_ Cas likes him. _

_ What’s the problem? _

Dean has to ask. “What’s the problem? Are you worried I don’t feel the same because, I do.” He takes Cas’ face gently in his hands. “I really do.” 

It’s the sweetest thing in the world when Cas nuzzles into Dean’s hand, his stubble dragging across his palm. 

“That’s why I don’t want to fuck this up, understand?” Those peeks at sadness around Cas’ eyes Dean has caught throughout the day finally take over and Cas stares at Dean solemnly. “I hate to sound like a nineties rom-com, but I think we should take this slow.” 

God, Cas’ the cutest thing Dean’s ever seen as he waits for a response and man, does Dean have one. 

“Ok, A: The nineties were peak rom-com years. And two, I really like you Cas, and  _ I  _ don’t want to fuck this up so if this is what you want, I’m totally cool with it.” 

Cas looks relieved and Dean wonders who hurt him. Some fucking idiot, that’s for damn sure. 

Dean’s not gonna make the same mistake and pulls Cas on top of him to settle them both along the length of the couch. Dean brings their mouths together and wraps his arms tight around Cas while they kiss, enjoying the weight of the other man and the way Cas’ mouth feels against his. Dean loses all track of time while they kiss, feeling like he’s back in high school making out on Victor’s mom’s couch in his basement.

He slips his hand up Cas’ shirt and Dean has miles of soft skin under his hands; he can’t stop touching Cas and Cas isn’t making any indication that he wants Dean to. One of his hands is fisted in Dean’s hair and the other has creeped up Dean’s shirt and is stroking Dean’s ribs. 

Dean thinks maybe he’d like to come apart under these hands. 

Cas’ touch turns teasing and he tickles Dean’s side and fuck, Dean can’t help but bark out a laugh into Cas’ mouth. Cas grins and tickles him harder.

Dean presses his head back and laughs harder than he has in a long time. Years, even. 

And then Cas is laughing too, a warm, stuttering sound, like it’s something just dying to get out. His nose is scrunched in the most adorable way and Dean makes it his goal to make Cas laugh like this as often as he can. 

Cas sits up to catch his breath, and he’s goddamn gorgeous, a fucking adonis with sex hair on Dean’s couch. He rocks up to kiss Cas’ jaw, earning a pleased grunt in response. 

_ You’re so, so, screwed, Winchester. _

“Do you want to stay?” 

Cas’ smile falls a little, and it crushes Dean a little more so he’s quick to try and fix it. He puts his hands up and gives Cas what he hopes is a reassuring smile. 

“This invitation comes with a PG rating, Cas,” Dean says with another kiss to Cas’ cheek. He wants Cas to say yes.

Cas smirks and leans in to murmur, “Come on Officer, can I at least get a PG-13 rating?” 

The heat of Cas’ breath shoots straight to Dean’s belly. 

Dean stands and pulls Cas to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Come on, I have some sweats you can use.” 

Dean doesn’t miss the happiness in Cas’ eyes. He gives Cas a soft smile and pulls him towards the bedroom. He smiles when Cas flips the overhead lights off.

He shuts the bedroom door behind them and takes in the sight of Cas standing next to his bed. Total coincidence, it’s not the side Dean’s chosen as his own. He used to starfish it—he has a king size memory foam and he’s just a  _ man _ for fucks sake—but after a while, he favored the left side closer to the balcony. The phone charger and his reading glasses are there, a few dollars and change from his pockets. It’s Dean’s side. 

And Cas is standing on the opposite side and Dean has to shake  _ that _ particular thought out of his head. He crosses over to the closet to grab something for Cas to change into.

“Bathroom has two doors, other one goes to the hallway. When you’re snooping in my medicine cabinet, feel free to take a toothbrush.” Cas grins. “I keep extras in case Sammy or Charlie stay over.” 

“Weird question but, anything I can put my contacts in?” Cas asks hopefully. Dean was wondering about his glasses. 

“Under the sink. Charlie wears em’ and believe me, she’s  _ mean _ when her eyes get itchy.” Dean dramatizes his shudder and Cas huffs a laugh and nods like he can relate. 

_ Great, now there’s two of them. _

Cas pulls him close before he slips in the bathroom. “You’re a good man, Officer,” he murmurs before closing the door behind him, into the bathroom. 

_ Fuck. He’s so screwed. _

Dean rips his door open and speeds to the kitchen to refill their water glasses, trying not to spill either of them when he skids back into his bedroom. He kind of hops across the room trying to get his pants off and fuck,  _ do not fall you fucking moron. _

He makes it into a pair of sweats and peels down the blankets before throwing them back, thinking that looks too presumptuous. 

_ Cas is literally changing into your clothes in your bathroom, dumbass. Lock. It. Up.  _

Dean pulls the covers back down and hops in and turns the TV on as Cas comes out of the bathroom. A drop of water drips from his ear and soaks into his shirt and he grins and runs a hand through his hair and holy shit, this guy is about to be in Dean’s  _ bed _ .

_ In Dean’s clothes.  _

His sweats stretch across Cas’ thunder thighs and fall a little long at Cas’ bare feet. They fit long on Dean too, he prefers it actually. Pats himself on the back for how fucking good Cas looks in them too. Dean can’t help but imagine them on the floor of his room. 

Cas has his clothes folded in his hands and lifts them a little and Dean has to focus, nodding towards the chair in the corner of the room he can put them on. Cas smiles and sets them down, pulling his glasses out of the pocket of his pants and settling them on his face. 

Dean realizes how much he missed them all day. He pats the space next to him and Cas crosses the room in three big strides, climbing into Dean’s bed like he’s done it a million times.

“Alright, what are we watching?” Cas sits cross legged next to him and leans over, stretching to reach his vape pen he left on the nightstand. 

On Not Dean’s side. 

Dean’s easily distracted by Cas’ shirt riding up a little and he sees tan skin and the edge of a tattoo, something pink. He reaches out to stroke that little stretch of skin and Cas grabs him by the wrist and hauls himself upright, pulling Dean’s hand across his stomach where Dean thinks he can count every single ab muscle. 

Cas takes a long drag from his pen and holds the smoke, passing it to Dean. Dean copies his hit, and it tickles his throat. Cas looks at him and nods before they both blow the smoke out, a nice white cloud hovering over the bed. 

Dean pulls Cas down into his pillows, one arm around his shoulders. Cas settles in, nestling into the crook of Dean’s arm and the down feathers Dean splurged on not too long ago. 

“Netflix and chill, Cas?” Dean tries to purr, but he chokes on the word chill and Cas dissolves into giggles. 

“Netflix and grill?” Cas rubs his stomach like an idiot. 

“Netflix and  _ drill _ ,” Dean leers with a tug on a lock of Cas’ hair. Cas cackles, his legs curling up as he rolls with it before flopping his legs back over Dean’s. He turns enough to huff a laugh into Dean’s chest and thread their legs together. One of Cas’ hands slips under Dean’s shirt and strokes his stomach. 

Dean curls one arm around Cas and threads his fingers into Cas’ soft hair. Cas lets out these little sighs as Dean plays with his hair and Dean really wants to get used to this because they’re fucking cuddling and he loves it. Everything’s amazing, thanks to the most incredible guy he’s ever met who is currently laying in his arms and how the hell did this become Dean’s life? 

And now, Cas is offering Dean another hit, holding the pen to his lips and pressing the button while Dean takes another big drag. Dean holds it while Cas takes his and then Dean is blowing the smoke over Cas’ head and Cas is blowing it to their side and it’s getting a little hazy in there. 

Cas still shines. 

“What’s on your Netflix list, Cas?” 

“Oh, have you watched that new show uh—” Cas scrunches his nose. “It’s a cooking show, it has a weird name, fuck—oh! Ugly—Ugly Delicious!” 

Dean’s been queuing it since Cas started stuttering in that adorable way and he gestures at the TV before throwing the remote to the side.

“Why did you let me just go on?” Cas pouts. 

“Because that was fucking cute, dude.” Dean kisses the top of his head. “And I had a feeling you’d get there.” 

Cas hides his face for a second and Dean can feel his wide grin press against his chest. He runs his hand through Cas’ hair again and Cas lays against his chest and settles his face towards the TV. 

They’re halfway through the first episode and Dean realizes Cas is asleep. His shoulders rise and fall in their own rhythm and his breathing is settled. Cas has his hand fisted in Dean’s shirt and Dean never wants to move. 

He concedes only to turn off the TV, and he finds the room isn’t as dark as he was expecting. He realizes what he sees is dawn arriving, the sun making another go at it. The light leaks around the edges of his curtains, dim and pushing against the night. 

Cas shifts in his arms and snuffles into his shirt so Dean pulls him closer, burrows them deeper and turns them away from the breaking light. 

Next time he opens his eyes, Dean wants to see the world in a brand new way.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean’s dreaming in colors. Deep swirls of blue mixed with the color Cas’ eyes turn when they reflect the sun, of the ocean on a stormy day. It's nice, and he's warm but curious when the bed dips down next to him, until the smell of coffee reaches him. A warm hand slides across his belly and soft lips brush across the back of his neck. 

_ Cas. Cas is still here. _

Dean considered the possibility that Cas might be gone in the morning but he’s happy to realize he didn’t need to worry at all. He rolls over, dragging his face over his pillow only to be captured by bright blue eyes looking at him. Cas smiles. 

_ What an awesome way to wake up.  _

“Good morning, Dean.” Dean wants to tuck himself into the cadence of Cas’ voice and stay there forever. 

He hums his contentment. “Mornin’ Cas. Do I smell coffee?” Dean stretches his toes, shifting his hips closer to Cas as he relaxes. Cas’ legs part to let Dean slip his knee between them. “Thought I was out.” He burrows into Cas’ neck to breathe in the smoky scent he likes so much. 

“You were, which is just unacceptable,” Cas replies. “I borrowed your keys and walked to Weaver’s. They know your drink over there, already. Hot  _ and  _ cold.” His eyebrows go up and Dean’s body reacts, his blood shifting under his skin. 

Dean’s cheeks heat and he bites his lip before speaking, Cas’ eyes flicking down to his mouth before darting back up to his eyes. “I’ve been going all week,” he mumbles. “Thought I might see you there.” 

Cas flashes him a wide smile and pulls him closer for a chaste kiss, closed mouth warm and pushing against Dean’s. They trade these sweet kisses for a while, Cas nibbling at Dean’s lips until they’re swollen. Cas’ are pink and full and Dean wants to taste them again. 

“Your coffee’s gonna get cold, Officer,” Cas says against his cheek. He leans over Dean as Dean struggles to sit up, their limbs getting tangled while they get used to maneuvering around each other. Cas captures the remote and Dean huffs out a laugh as Cas grunts and sits up himself. 

He spies the familiar coffee cup on his bedside table. The coffee is blissfully hot, with just the right amount of vanilla. A guy could get used to this. 

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean leans over and Cas gives him a coffee flavored kiss. “I woulda gone with you, you know.” 

“You looked too cute to wake up,” Cas’ lips twitch into a smile. “Plus, I stopped home and grabbed some stuff, change of clothes, better weed.” His eyes take on a wicked gleam. “Long as you don’t mind me hanging around today?” 

Dean rescheduled plans with his brother  _ and _ Charlie for this weekend, no way he minds. 

“I was hoping you’d want to,” Dean says. “Anything you’d like to do today?” 

Cas’ gaze darkens a little.  _ Fuck, how does he keep getting hotter? _

“We can see where the day takes us,” Cas suggests. “Brunch at some point, for sure. Did you know you’re a few steps from one of the best brunch spots in the city?” 

“You talkin’ about Fable?” Dean asks. “We tried to get brunch there a few weeks back; it’s always packed without a reservation.” Sam was disappointed over quinoa that day. 

“It’s cool, I know the hostess.” Cas leans over and grabs his phone. “She’s a friend and fellow artist over at the co-op I go to. She’ll save me a table.” 

_ All right, why is that hot?  _

He smiles at his phone after a moment. “Meg’s got a table for us in an hour and a half.” He tosses his phone back on the nightstand. “Wonder how we can pass the time…” Cas trails off and side eyes Dean with a playful smile before he wraps his arms around Dean’s neck to pull them together. Dean sets down his cup in a hurry before pulling Cas into his lap again, Cas’ knees bracketing his hips as he settles on to Dean’s thighs. 

Dean slides his hands up Cas’ shirt and around his back and fuck, his muscles flex under Dean’s touch. Their mouths slide together and Cas groans as he melts into Dean. His hands pull at Dean’s hair and he fidgets in Dean’s lap and it’s making him feel crazy. He pulls Cas down by the hips and grinds up just a little, testing the waters and trying to respect Cas’ wishes to go slow. 

Cas has other ideas as he grinds down into Dean’s lap, his kisses becoming dirtier and more enthusiastic. 

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean pants, his hands sliding up to Cas’ shoulders to pull him down to get even closer, and Dean can feel how hard Cas is in  _ his _ sweats and fuck, he can feel his own erection growing. Cas must too because he moans into Dean’s mouth and sucks on his tongue in response. 

They’re all exploring hands and hot mouths, Cas licks stripes into Dean’s neck and they rock their hips up to a rhythm only the two of them can hear. Dean wants to get his mouth on more of Cas, on all of him, and he pushes Cas’ shirt up at the hem. When Cas releases him to grab his collar and pull his shirt off, Dean is blessed with the sight of another of Cas’ tattoos, this one stretching across his hips and up his side, a blooming cherry blossom branch, some petals floating alone. Cas’ golden skin contrasts against the pink blossoms and Dean has to touch. He wants to taste, and he halts their movements to take Cas in. 

Dean braces one hand across Cas’ back and slides his other hand reverently down Cas’ chest to his stomach and down to his hips. Cas arches back to give him access, his skin pebbling in response to Dean’s touch. Dean holds him firm and Cas leans into his support, arching his back in a nearly impossible way. Dean dips his head to drop kisses against the petals and up Cas’ side, finally stopping and capturing one of Cas’ dark nipples between his teeth. 

He rolls it and flattens his tongue to massage the nub he’s pulled into his mouth and Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s head to keep him close. He’s breathing fast and rolling his hips in a sinful motion and Dean’ can’t even think straight anymore. He drags his mouth across Cas’ chest to pay some attention to his other nipple and as he licks and sucks, Cas falls further apart in his arms. 

“Yes, Dean, please,” Cas begs into his hair and Dean wants to give him everything. He bites and tugs at Cas’ nipple and Cas cries out as his hips roll hard against Dean and he buries his head into the curve of Dean’s neck. Heat spreads between them and the feeling of Cas shuddering in his arms and the sound of Cas choking on Dean’s name is enough to do him in, his cock pulsing against Cas’. 

They breathe into one another and Dean just wants to lay back and pull Cas into him but he can’t because Cas is rolling away, his chest heaving as he lays down on the other side of the bed. He lolls his head over to look at Dean.

They stare. They stare and stare and Dean’s never felt this way before, like he can’t get enough of Cas, like he never wants to let this feeling escape them. 

When Dean gets out of the shower, Cas is sitting on the edge of the bed, a large glass pipe wedged between his knees.

Dean stares at him as he packs the bowl of weed from what looks like a film container, the lid open and the skunky aroma of weed drifting over to where he’s standing. Cas’ long fingers move with familiarity as he tucks the buds into the pipe. Dean’s disappointed when he has to pull his shirt over his head and stop watching Cas. 

Cas looks comfortable in some black joggers and a plain white t-shirt. His hair is messy from Dean pushing his hands through it and he grins when he sees that Dean has followed his lead, dressing in some worn jeans and a black shirt. 

They go out to the balcony to smoke and Cas offers him the first hit. Dean takes it and appreciates them standing together, both with bare feet. Dean doesn’t know why, but he really likes what he sees. 

The smoke fills his lungs and warms him from the inside as he takes a few hits before passing it to a smiling Cas who hits the bong with one big inhale, smoke leaving his lips in a way that makes Dean want to kiss him and take some of it in. Dean is impatient to explore all of Cas with his mouth. 

Cas takes the last good hit and before he exhales, he kisses Dean deeply, sharing the smoke from his lungs. Dean can taste the weed and he takes a deep breath, sucking in the smoke. Wisps of silver float away anytime their lips break the seal and Cas has him pressed against the railing of the balcony and Dean is dizzy in his grasp. 

They break apart, both panting from the intensity of their kiss. Dean’s blood is boiling, and he wishes they didn’t have a reservation because right now, all he wants to do is devour the man in front of him. 

Cas chuckles and kisses the tip of Dean’s nose, doing that mind reading thing again. 

“We should go,” he murmurs against Dean’s jaw, biting there with measured nips of his teeth. 

Dean doesn’t want to, but he concedes, stepping away first to open the door for Cas to pass through. Cas leaves his pipe on his nightstand before heading for the living room. Dean follows and smiles, watching as Cas hops on one foot to pull on his shoes one by one. 

_ How the hell did you get this lucky, Winchester?  _

And another sobering thought.  _ Do not fuck this up. _

He thinks about that as they lock up and head out of his building. Cas takes the stairs two at a time and he makes it to the bottom of the stairs first before he looks up and smiles at Dean coming down after him. 

Dean feels like he’s dreaming. 

Cas holds his hand, but he wasn’t joking when he said they were steps away. They cross the street and then they’re there, the different colors in Fable’s neon sign glinting in the gloomy day they’ve found themselves in. They get a few bright days during Spring but most of the time, it’s still cool and cloudy. 

Cas holds the door open for him and Dean enters, the small restaurant space feeling welcoming. A small, dark haired woman stands in front of them, one hand on her hip and the other resting on the hostess stand, her fingers tapping on the top counter. 

“Well, it’s about time you come and see me, Clarence,” she looks past Dean with a smirk and Cas brushes by him and takes the small woman in his arms. 

“I just saw you two weeks ago, Meg,” Cas scolds her with a grin when he lets this Meg person go. She brushes the hair off Cas’ forehead with familiarity and Dean feels a flair of jealousy and possessiveness go through him. 

He clears his throat and Cas turns, only to grab Dean’s hand and pull him to his side. “Meg, I’d like to introduce Dean.” Cas smiles at him with a tilt of his head. “We just started seeing each other.” 

Meg looks Dean up and down without an ounce of shame and Dean would totally respect that if she didn’t look so pissed about his very existence. “Dean, huh? Okay.” She turns on her heel and gestures for them to follow her through the restaurant and out to the patio, their table being in the back corner. She runs her hand through Cas’ hair that Dean himself had been pulling on less than an hour ago and again, Dean’s  _ jealous _ . 

Their casual intimacy is not lost on him and he wonders if they’ve slept together. Dean fidgets, his fingers flexing in his lap. 

Cas watches Meg weave between the tables and back inside before he looks back to Dean, an easy smile on his face. God, he doesn’t want to be wrong about this. 

He has to ask. Dean has to ask before this goes too far because there is no way in hell he thinks he’s capable of sharing and if that’s what Cas wants, Dean doesn’t think he’ll be able to live with that. So Dean has to ask.

“Cas, look, if you and Meg are a thing and—”

Cas narrows his eyes. 

“— If you’re into like, open relationships, that’s cool man, really, but it’s just not my scene and—”

Cas holds up his hand to request Dean stop talking and he does, his jaw snapping shut. He grinds his teeth, scared of Cas’ reaction because okay, that was pretty lame and Dean should probably care less but he  _ doesn’t _ and he hoped Cas was different and—  

“Dean, I assure you, Meg and I are just friends.” Cas brings his knees up against his chest and props his chin on one. He tilts his head and gives Dean a lazy smile. “I’m the very definition of a six on the Kinsey Scale.” He gets up and slides into the booth next to Dean, pressing him into the corner. His body is all firm muscle and his breath slides hot across Dean’s jaw. “Just looking at you pushes me into the ten territory.”

Dean blushes. “Scale doesn’t go that high,” he mumbles, trying to remember how to breathe. 

Cas chuckles and sucks Dean’s earlobe into his mouth. “Officer, I believe you’re blushing.” Dean squeezes his eyes shut when Cas’ hand sneaks into his lap, only to rest there without moving. 

“Geez, Cassie, would you care to borrow the break room or would you prefer to shag your friend right here on the table?” 

Cas smirks into Dean’s jaw as Dean drags his eyes open to see a tall blonde guy with a devilish grin and the deepest v-neck Dean thinks he’s ever seen. No really, it’s impressive. And the guy pulls it off, believe it or not. Dean grins back. 

“I believe that’s up to my guest here, Balthazar.”

“I thought Meg was just fucking with me when she said I needed to get my ass in here to see what delicious treat Cas dragged in.”  

“Well now you’re just trying to sweet talk him,” Cas scolds playfully. 

“It’s working,” Dean plays along, reaching his hand out. “Dean, nice to meet you.” 

“Balthazar,” he replies as he clasps Dean’s hand. “You gents care for some blood orange mimosas? It’s our special today.” 

They ask for the bottomless option and spend an hour or two drinking and eating a bit of everything on the menu. Cas leans against the back of the booth, his legs draped over Dean’s lap. He scoots close enough that he can lean in to kiss Dean whenever he wants and more than once, they receive catcalls and whistles from the other patrons. 

It’s the most fun Dean’s ever had during brunch. 

It’s storming, the rain steady on the roof of the patio and against the plants of the garden next to them. The energy between them grows hotter the longer they sit together, trading slow kisses and in no hurry to leave, until Cas shifts just a little closer and one of his legs drops open. Dean runs his hand up Cas’ leg and along his strong thigh and he brushes against Cas’ erection. A low moan curls in Dean’s throat. 

Cas pulls Dean out of the booth and presses them together, pressing his forehead into Dean’s shoulder as he reaches between them. Dean’s brain is sparking, thinking about how good this feels and how wrong this is to do in the middle of a restaurant and  _ fuck. _

Cas huffs into his shoulder and that’s when Dean realizes Cas is just trying to hide his boner in order to leave without showing the whole restaurant his huge—  

A tug on his hand has Dean tripping over his feet to follow a now laughing Cas outside and back onto the sidewalk. The rain is really coming down now but Cas just pulls Dean to him, right there on the street in front of God and all their neighbors and holy shit, the way he kisses Dean makes him feel like nothing else matters, that if he can keep kissing Cas in the rain, then everything else would just fall into place. 

Cas’ laugh dances across his tongue and Dean wants to get them horizontal as soon as possible. They break apart and Dean pushes back the hair plastered to Cas’ forehead, kissing it and threading their fingers together to take a leisurely stroll back to Dean’s. 

Cas has other ideas. He takes every opportunity to press Dean against every other stretch of building he can. Cas’ mouth is scorching against Dean’s and he lays claim to Dean’s mouth, tasting like sweetness and sin. Dean’s blood is humming, between the champagne buzz and Cas’ lips, Dean’s dizzy with it. 

Cas gives him a moment to unlock his building’s door before he’s on him again, hips digging into Dean as he sucks rainwater from Dean’s throat. All he can do is press his head into the wall and try not to make any embarrassing noises. 

A throat clearing followed by a laugh finally coaxes Cas’ mouth away from Dean’s body. He slumps against the wall and cracks open an eye. 

The twins stand on the stairs, matching looks of amusement on their faces. 

“Hey fellas,” Max drawls. “Didn’t quite make it upstairs?” 

“My apologies,” Cas tucks his head against Dean’s chest. “The opportunity was too good to pass up.” 

Dean’s ears burn as both twins giggle. 

“A man after my own heart,” Max teases as they slip past the two men still making no move to go upstairs. “Just clean up any messes you make.” 

_ Oh fuck Dean’s entire life.  _

Cas laughs and salutes the retreating siblings. “Nice to see you again!” 

Alicia waves over her shoulder, “You too, Cas! Later, Dean!” 

The door shuts behind them. Cas latches his mouth onto Dean’s earlobe and sucks. Dean makes another embarrassing noise. 

“I like those two, Dean,” Castiel doesn’t sound as wrecked as Dean feels. “Are they good neighbors?” 

“They got me very stoned the second night I lived here, and they left behind a pie,” Dean pants out. “They’re fucking awesome neighbors.” 

Cas laughs when Dean spins them and presses  _ him _ into the wall. Dean starts to kiss his way across Cas’ collarbones, the vee of his shirt providing lots of delicious access. 

“Do you know them?” Dean mumbles into Cas’ neck before he bites into the curve. 

“Fuck, Dean, your mouth,” Cas’ voice is full of heat. He tries to clear his throat before answering Dean. “No, no, I met—we met this morning when I was coming back from Weavers.” 

“And you already charmed them,” Dean says with admiration as he grinds their hips together. 

_ Of course the twins love Cas. He’s perfect. _

Cas groans and stops them halfway up the stairs to push Dean down onto one and straddle his hips. His hands are in Dean’s hair and he’s breathing hard into Dean’s mouth. 

“Say that again, Dean,” Cas begs. 

Fuck, he must have spoken out loud. 

Dean sucks Cas’ bottom lip into his mouth and tugs before he lets go. “What do you want me to tell you, Cas?” He runs his tongue along the lip he just bit. “Want me to tell you I think you’re perfect?” Cas moans echo in the stairwell. “You’re perfect. And I want you so bad.” He slides his arms around Cas’ strong shoulders. Cas is practically writhing in his grasp. “And I’m willing to wait as long as you want.” 

“Take me upstairs, Dean, please,” Cas’ voice cracks. He unwraps himself from Dean’s lap and presses against him, urging him up the stairs. 

_ It would be Dean’s fucking pleasure. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	8. Chapter 8

Dating Cas is kinda like—well, it’s kinda like being chained to a comet. After that first long (amazing, hot, awesome) weekend, they’re like magnets, drawn together over and over. Thankfully, where Dean’s isn’t, Cas’ schedule is just as flexible as the man himself.

They fall easily into their own world; lazy walks to Weavers in the mornings when Cas stays over, Dean walking him back to his door before he goes home to get ready for work. Days filled with texts between them, flirting and making plans to get together almost daily. Drinks that lead to dinners that lead to cuddling in front of the fireplace while they still can. Cas stays over a few nights a week.

It’s incredibly easy to shut everyone else out and enjoy their little bubble.

Unfortunately for Dean, he has a very pushy best friend and an even pushier brother who won’t let him ignore the rest of the world. Only a few weeks go by before Dean’s ambushed.

He’s finishing up for the day and looking forward to dinner with Cas when a maroon and gold Gryffindor messenger bag drops in the middle of his desk, it’s irritated red haired owner dropping into the seat beside Dean with a huff.

_Shit._

Dean knows he’s been a crappy friend. The messages from Charlie and Sam are enough to remind him. It’s not like he doesn’t reply, he just doesn’t accept the offers to go out; not because he didn’t _want_ to go with them but because he already has plans with Cas every time they’ve asked.

Charlie crosses her arms, an exasperated look on her face. “Enough is enough, Winchester.”

“Aw, don’t be mad, Charlie—”  A hand to his face stops Dean in his tracks.

“Save it, Dean.” Charlie slides open his top drawer and reaches into the back where Dean keeps the keys to the Impala. He objects when she pulls them out and pockets them. “Come on, we’re leaving. Don’t bother protesting.”

Pfft. Dean protests. He protests all the way to the parking garage, and he throws his hands up in defeat when they get to the car and find Sam leaning against it, a matching exasperated look on his face.

“This is considered kidnapping. You’re kidnapping an officer of the fucking law, guys.” Dean narrows his eyes and sweeps an accusing finger between his abductors. “I could arrest you both, charge you with the felonies you deserve.”

Sam rolls his eyes as Charlie tosses him the keys to the Impala. “No judge would convict us, once we present the facts of the case.” He holds open the door to the backseat. “Now get in.”

“I’d like to know these so-called facts, Sasquatch,” Dean grumbles as he climbs into his own backseat. He forgets how roomy it is and thinks about how Cas might look laid out under him back here.

Sam clears his throat and Dean catches his bitch face in the rear view. “Ignoring your family and friends for a _guy_ is definitely reasonable cause.”

“Don’t lawyer me, bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Dean smiles a fake smile at Sam’s reflection and slips his phone out of his pocket. He slides his thumb over the screen to unlock it, the locking noise making Charlie whip around in her seat.

“Don’t make me confiscate your phone.” She looks down at the phone in Dean’s hand. “You’re having dinner _with us._ No distractions.”

Dean knows he can’t win. He concedes on one condition. “Let me at least text Cas, okay? We had plans, I’m not gonna be a dick.”

“Oh right, not to _him,_ ” Sam mumbles under his breath and _ouch._ Dean deserves that one.

He opens his text thread with Cas.

**< <I’m so sorry but I’ve been kidnapped by Sam and Charlie. I’d ask you to send help but no force on earth can defeat these two when they join forces. **

Cas replies with a laughing emoji.

**> >Are you in trouble? **

**< <Yes. So are you.**

**> >What did I do?**

**< <They’re mad I’ve been spending all my time with you.**

**> >Uh oh, slacking on the big brother and best friend duties.**

**< <Something like that. **

**< <I’m receiving death glares as we speak.**

**> >You’d risk death for me? You’re sweet. **

**< <They’re taking me to dinner. If they’re gonna do an intervention, the food better be decent. **

**> >You’ll be fine, thank you for letting me know.**

**< <Couldn't leave you hanging, Cas. **

**> >Tell me when your parents release you and we can meet up. I'll buy you a drink ;) **

_Smooth motherfucker._

Dean loves how easy going Cas is about this kind of stuff.

**< <Yes, please. You're an angel. **

**> >Ha ha. **

Dean huffs out a laugh. Ever since Cas told him he was named after an angel, Dean loves to use the endearment occasionally.

He’s brought back to reality when they pull into a parking lot to one of Dean’s favorite burger places in the city, The New Spot on Polk. He’d discovered it with Charlie one night while they were out having a drink.

Dean sighs, wondering why they want to butter him up. He thought he was in for a lecture but they wouldn’t bring him to his favorite diner to make him feel shitty, right?

They sit across from him in the booth, matching stares on their faces.

Dean clasps his hands and rests them on the table in front of them. “Okay, hit me.”

He waits.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes when they exchange a glance before Charlie speaks, “Dean, we’re sorry about this—”  

_Wait, what?_

“ _—_ but we couldn’t figure out another way to get you to come out with us.” Charlie furrows her brow. “It’s not like you to avoid us.” She looks hurt and Dean feels like shit.

Sam stares at Dean with a narrowed look, challenging him to agree with Charlie.

Because Sam knows, this _is_ like Dean. Sam’s been through this before, when Dean got together with Lisa. Dean can understand how it might seem that way to him.

What Sam doesn’t know is that Cas is _different._ Dean supposes that’s on him for not explaining sooner.

“Charlie, I’m sorry. Really.” Dean reaches across the table to squeeze her hand before turning to Sam. “I’m not avoiding you guys, I promise.”

“It’s different this time, Sammy,” he says gently. “I swear.” Sam doesn’t look like he believes Dean. He sighs and signals for the waitress.

“Let me explain?”

Orders placed and beers served, Dean tells them about their first weekend together. He laughs when he tells them about the flirty waitress and he’s happy their food comes while he’s in the middle of describing the Brazilian barbecue which they’re both jealous about, much to his enjoyment.

Dean gets to the part about their impromptu sleepover and Sam coughs like food is stuck in his throat. He sips his beer to clear it and Dean barrels on. He has no idea how long he talks but his food is gone, save a few lingering fries and Dean leans back and gives his stomach a rub. He glances around at the wood paneling and thinks he’d like to take Cas here to try these burgers.

Dean looks back at his captors. Charlie is wearing a dreamy look on her face, her chin propped in her hand. Sam looks—confused.

“What’s with you two? You’re weirding me out.” Dean fidgets.

“You’re in love,” Sam says with a snap of his fingers.

Charlie sighs. “Yeah, he is.”

“What, shut up—what?”

That’s not—it’s way too soon for that word. Way too soon. Way too soon.

Right?

“Pump the breaks there, moose.” Dean drains the rest of his beer. Too soon.

“All right, I’m sorry,” Sam waves him off. “I’m not trying to freak you out.” He calls for another round. “But you’ve got some serious heart eyes going on.”

Dean does not.

The waitress brings their next round and Dean’s thankful for the opportunity to change the subject.

He sips his beer and settles back. “All right, let's hear it, what’s going on with you two?”

Dean enjoys catching up with his kidnappers. They talk for awhile about their games, Sam’s upcoming finals, and Charlie’s LARPing. She’s trying to talk them all into joining her one weekend this summer. Dean’s already thinking about his costume.

He doesn’t stop his thoughts from wandering and he’s imagining Cas in chainmail when Sam clears his throat and motions for their check.

Dean swipes it up; he’s gotten quicker trying to beat Cas at it all the damn time. He ignores the protests from the other side of the booth.

“I owe you, I’m not above buying your forgiveness.” He passes his credit card to the waitress. “So, we good here?”

Sam squares his shoulders.

_Guess they aren’t quite done._

“We want to meet him.”

Dean fuckin’ knew it. He’s not avoiding the introductions, he just wasn’t quite ready for him and Cas to leave their little bubble.

“The way you’re talking about him, Dean, he sounds—” Charlie considers her words. “He sounds special, okay?” Her eyes take on a fierce gleam. “We gotta make sure he is.”

Dean softens at her concern. Damn, he’s thankful for the kid. He takes pity on them both and digs into his pocket to pull out his phone.

“See, Charlie, I told you he wouldn’t take us seriously.”

Dean holds a finger up to his doubtful ass of a brother.

**< <How do you feel about meeting the parents?**

Dean watches the dots blink as Cas types a response. _Come on, come on. Be cool, please._

**> >You’re off Saturday, brunch for four? I’ll text Meg right now. What time? **

Dean hopes his relief isn’t obvious. He schools his face and looks at Sam cooly.

“You two free for brunch on Saturday? Say, 11:00?”

Dean takes their shocked faces as confirmation.

**< <11 works.**

**> >11 it is. Sounds like it's going great. **

Dean smirks at his phone.

**< <You have no idea. Think we're wrapping up tho. **

**> >Drinks in 30?**

**< <Text me where. **

**> >See you soon, officer. **

He tucks his phone in his pocket and raises an eyebrow at his companions. “We done here?”

Dean drops them off at Charlie’s, Sam’s borrowed Zipcar sitting in front of her apartment. Dean stops them before they climb out. “Look guys, I like him. And I really hope you do too.”

Sam smiles brightly at him. “We’re sure he’s great, Dean.”

“And we’re really excited to meet him,” Charlie chimes in.

Dean tells them to meet at his place around 10:30 and wishes them a good night. He spends the next few nights getting Cas ready to meet his brother and his best friend. Cas sleeps over on Friday night and they wake early for a quick walk around the neighborhood to grab some freshly ground coffee from Weavers. They don’t bother to get out of their pajamas and the air is cool, probably one of the last real spring mornings they’ll have this year. The morning fog is thick but they keep their hands warm, clasped inside the hoodie Dean thought to throw over his t-shirt. He nuzzles into Cas’ neck as they walk, breathing hot against his skin. “We’re not nervous, right?”

Cas stops them and wraps strong arms around Dean’s neck. “No, we’re not,” he answers with a kiss. “This is your brother and your best friend, the two people you adore the most.”

_Maybe not the only two._

“You’re amazing, they must be as well.” Cas kisses him, hot and tight against his lips. “And not to brag, but parents love me.”

Dean huffs out a laugh into Cas’ mouth. How is this man so perfect?

They have hours to kill (Dean kinda loves that they’re both mostly morning people, even when they sleep in once in a while.) so Cas packs a bowl, coaxing Dean out to the balcony to partake with him. Dean can’t deny the buzz of nerves under his skin and he’s grateful Cas is there with something that will help him relax. He’s all but commandeered the other nightstand, leaving a few containers of weed, an extra pair of glasses, and a book that changes every few days. Dean has no idea how Cas reads them so fast.

Cas takes the spent pipe from Dean’s hold and pulls him inside. Dean drifts towards the bed, the sheets rumpled from where they crawled out an hour ago, now looking like a bed of fluffy clouds and Dean wants to get back inside. Dean flops— _gracefully, damn it—_ into the sheets and Cas laughs at him from his side of the bed.

_Yeah, Dean fuckin’ said it._

He drags himself to his knees and crawls over to the edge of the mattress, grabbing Cas by the waist. “C’mere, babe,” Dean requests, wanting to feel Cas’ weight on top of him. Cas smirks and slides his hands up Dean’s arms and around the back of his head.

Dean grabs some firm ass and holds their hips together. He thinks he can feel Cas’ pulse against his shaft and fuck, he wants more. He drags their hips in a slow slide, Cas moaning against his cheek.

He pushes at Dean’s chest and Dean wraps his hand around Cas’ wrist to pull him down into the sheets. Cas settles his weight on top of Dean, all firm lines and heavy muscle and it’s so good. “Yeah, babe,” Dean breathes into Cas’ ear before he nibbles on it.

“Babe, huh?” Cas smiles into the curve of Dean’s neck as he presses his hips down. “You like calling me that when you’re stoned.”

“Because you’re my babe.” What doesn’t Cas get here? Dean nips at the skin under Cas’ ear.

Cas responds with a breathy moan, a tug on Dean’s hair, and a roll of his hips. “Yeah, yeah Dean,” he pants against Dean’s lips. Cas’ hands shake as he rolls them to their sides, keeping one in Dean’s hair and shoving the other between them, pushing both their sweats down as quick as he can without having to stop the kissing.

Dean’s body vibrates in anticipation, his pleasure cresting when Cas wraps thick fingers around his cock, stroking lightly in a tease. Cas’ hand leaves his hair and rustles under him to grab the lube stashed there from the night before. Cas holds the bottle and Dean opens it, gasping as cold liquid drips between them, Cas’ hand sliding wet over their cocks.

Dean’s eyes drift shut, and he lets his other senses take over, the drag of Cas’ palm against his shaft, the head of Cas’ cock catching on his in a delightful tug, Cas’ mouth latched to his shoulder, working what Dean knows will be a bruise there that Dean will press his fingers into later.

“Tell me you’re close, Cas,” Dean begs. He’s lost, he’s going to come, and he wants them to do it together.

“Yes,” Cas’ voice cracks. “Call me babe, again, please,” he pleads. “Dean.”

Cas’ rhythm stutters and his grip around them gets impossibly tight. Dean drags his fingernails up Cas’ back and fuck—  

“That’s it babe, fuck. So fucking good for me, make us come,” Dean groans. “Make us come, babe.”

Cas comes first, a filthy moan falling from his mouth, his head falling back. Dean drags his lips across Cas’ long neck and follows when Cas’ hot come spreads between them. Dean imagines electricity sparking where their skin meets and he closes his eyes and enjoys the sensation for a while. A kiss to his chin drags his eyes open to see blue.

“You’re my favorite color, Cas,” Dean murmurs. Cas’ cheeks flush pink.

He tucks his face into the curve of Dean’s neck. “Come on, Officer. Let’s get cleaned up. 10:30 approaches.”

Dean groans and wraps them together with a sticky slide. _Ok, gross._

“Yup, you’re right. Be right back.”

He warms a washcloth and cleans Cas first before rinsing it and wiping himself down. Thankfully in their hurry, they didn’t lose any clothes, which then received the bulk of their mess. Dean can do laundry later.

They get ready around each other with ease and Dean smiles when he leaves the bathroom to find Cas in the kitchen making a big pot of coffee. He’s wearing navy blue joggers that hug him in all the right places, his ankles showing above maroon Chucks. He has on a white henley that stretches tight over his shoulders. He’s so, _so,_ hot.

“How long are you going to stand there staring?”

“Until 10:30.”

Cas’ shoulders shake with laughter as he turns towards Dean and slides up to him. “You look good,” Cas tells him, sliding a hand to cup his linen wrapped ass. Cas keeps trying to get him in yoga pants but he’s compromised with linen, citing the fact that it still looks somewhat classy for brunch. Cas likes to point out the many times they’ve gone in pajamas but Dean thinks this is a special case, either way.

Besides, if Cas is gonna look hot, Dean wants to look good next to him.

“I like this black button up on you, it’s very flattering,” Cas says, his eyes looking Dean up and down.

His cheeks heat up. “Thanks, Cas. You look really good, too.”

They lean together and kiss as the coffee percolates, the sound of the boiling water hissing and spitting as it brews. Their kisses are soft and steady, warm and the kind of comfort Dean didn’t know he needed until he was getting it.

When the building door buzzes at 10:30 on the dot, Dean unlocks it with a smile. He pulls open his front door and goes back to the kitchen to get down mugs for them. They’ll have a cup of coffee before they leave for Fable which Dean’s very excited to surprise Sam about.

“Dean?”

“In the kitchen!”

They can hear the door shut and they exchange one last quick kiss before Sam and Charlie join them. Dean steps forward and puts a hand on Cas’ hip.

“Guys, this is Cas.” Cas reaches his hand out. “Cas, this is my little brother, Sam.”

Cas squints up at the much taller man and laughs. “Are you sure?”

Sam laughs as he shakes Cas’ hand. “Good to meet you.”

“And this is Charlie, Queen of Moons and IT Services for the San Francisco PD. Both very noble,” Dean jokes with a sweeping hand.

Charlie punches him in the shoulder with a laugh. “Great to finally meet the amazing guy Dean won’t shut up about.” She wraps Cas in a hug and he freezes for a second before he’s awkwardly hugging back. Dean pulls him from the ginger death grip, flushing a little at her description of Cas and Dean’s reaction to him.

“Okay, let him breathe,” Dean gripes.

Cas is blushing when he turns back to the coffee pot. “How do you take your coffee? We have time for a cup before our reservation,” he explains.

Sam raises an eyebrow before asking for two sugars. Charlie asks for the same with some milk. Dean’s amused by their reaction to Cas fixing the other two cups with two spoonfuls of honey and a dash of milk, setting one down in front of Dean after serving Sam and Charlie. He sits next to Dean and sips from his mug with a smile.

“So, Sam, how do you like living on campus?”

_Smart, Cas, start with school._

“It’s great, convenient,” Sam answers but doesn’t elaborate.

Cas gives him a minute to anyway and continues after a beat. “How long does it take to get up to the city?”

“I took the train this morning so about an hour? If I rent a Zipcar, it takes about forty minutes.”

“Oh cool, yeah, I’ve used those before when I need to go somewhere I can’t with my motorcycle.” He drinks his coffee. “What about you Charlie? Dean didn’t mention where you live.”

“I’m over by the Lower Haight, right outside Buena Vista Park,” she says cheerfully.

Cas’ eyes light up. “My first apartment was over there. Me and my brother crammed in a two bedroom with four other roommates. Not the greatest,” Cas admits with a laugh. Charlie looks terrified.

“Oh my god, please, no, you’re reminding me of _my_ first apartment, which is a very generous description, okay? It was more like a shoebox.”

They’re both laughing when Dean excuses himself to lock up his balcony before they go.

Sam’s voice from the doorway makes Dean jump. “He seems comfortable here.” Dean turns to see Sam looking around his room, more ~~nosy~~ interested than usual. His eyes pause on the bedside table Cas uses; Cas’ glasses and his pipe sit next to a half drank glass of water from the night before.

The bed is still wrecked from their earlier shenanigans and Dean can even see the bottle of lube sticking out from under a pillow. He should probably be embarrassed but if Sam wants to snoop, he might see some shit he doesn’t like, and that’s not Dean’s problem.

Sam looks like he desperately wants to say something but Dean throws the lock shut on his slider and brushes past where his brother stands at the foot of his bed.

“Come on, don’t wanna miss our reservations.”

Dean knows he’s in for some kinda brother to brother chat soon. Maybe he’ll take Sammy to a baseball game, let him get it all out in nine innings. He pats Sam on the shoulder as he passes, implying they’ll talk later.

Dean shuts his bedroom door behind them.

All the coffee cups are abandoned on the table and Cas and Charlie wait by the front door. Cas has a beanie over his head and a thick knit blue scarf around his neck. It makes his eyes glow. He holds a matching black scarf out to Dean and Dean ducks under it, smiling when Cas wraps the scarf around his neck.

“It’s still gross out,” he says with a peck to Dean’s nose. “Plus, you look cute in your scarf.”

“You look cute always,” Dean replies with a kiss to Cas’ cheek.

Sam clears his throat from the stairwell.

Dean rolls his eyes because can’t his little brother just be cool for a damn second and he’s about to turn around and ask him when Cas stills him by cupping Dean’s cheek. “It’s going great,” he soothes Dean with wide, honest eyes. “Food will help.”

Dean nods and locks the door behind them, listening as Charlie goes on and on about her favorite brunch spots.

Cas holds his hand while they walk, nodding and joking with Charlie as they cross the street. Dean laughs when he has to call Sam back as he walks past Fable after shooting it a wistful glance. “Hey, you eatin’ with us, or what?”

Sam does a double take at them standing outside the entrance, Dean and Cas with matching grins and Charlie bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“What? Really?” Sam’s finally wearing his excited puppy face and Dean’s relieved.

“Cas knows everyone here,” Dean can’t help but brag a _little._

“Dean does too, now,” Cas mentions as he pulls open the door. “We come here enough.”

“Well hello gentlemen, who are these beautiful people you’ve somehow tricked into dining with you today?” Balthazar is always great at first impressions.

Dean shakes his head and laughs. “Brother,” he hooks a thumb at Sam. “Best friend,” Dean gestures at Charlie. “Sam and Charlie, this is Balthazar, king of Fable and the best mixologist in the Castro.”

Cas grins at him and Balthazar looks pleased as he leads them to what’s become “their” table on the patio. The heaters are on but Dean is still happy Cas wrapped them up.

Sam shoots him murderous glares as they sit and Dean responds with a furrowed brow of his own. Cas orders bottomless mimosas—peach today—and a few plates to give them a taste of everything. He makes sure to order the quinoa bowl for Sam, oblivious to the two brother’s growing tensions.

“What,” Dean hisses in an attempt to dissipate some of it.

Sam glares. “How long have I wanted to come here?” he demands.

Dean spoiled Sam too much as a child, he decides.

“You’re here now, shut up and drink your breakfast booze.”

Charlie is staring at them with a pleading look, and Cas looks amused. “You guys sound like me and Gabe,” he muses.

Balthazar brings them their first round with two champagne buckets, one filled with ice and a chilled bottle, the other a decanter of pureed peach. Charlie looks thoughtful as Dean holds up his glass.

“Happy brunch,” he jokes as they clink their glasses together. Cas beams at him and leans in to kiss his cheek after they toast.

“You’re getting better, Officer.” he says with a nudge to Dean’s shoulder. Dean ducks his head and kisses Cas’ shoulder. Since they’re here with company, Cas can’t sling his legs over Dean’s lap while they sit together and it’s cramping Dean’s style. He loves Cas’ legs.

He sneaks a hand over to rub Cas’ thigh in an attempt to make up for his loss.

_Mmm, this isn’t so bad, actually._

Balthazar brings them a few plates and Cas is serving them all a little of each when Charlie drops the fork she’s holding. It clatters against the plate and she gasps.

“Novak!”

_How the hell does Charlie know Cas’ last name?_

“I figured out where I know you from!” Charlie bounces in her seat and tugs at Sam’s shoulder. He looks sideways at her. “You said your brother’s name and my brain, it just started _going_ and it was like, hey, dummy, why does that sound familiar and—  

“Charlie,” Dean claps and cuts off her rambling.

She looks relieved. “My point—right.” She snaps her fingers and smiles wide at Cas. “‘Supernatural’ by Cas and Gabe Novak!”

Cas ducks his head and Sam looks interested. “What’s that?”

“It’s like, the coolest graphic novel out there; you’d love it Sam!”

Cas squeezes Dean’s hand over his thigh and Dean turns his palm up to lace their fingers together. He meant to ask Charlie if she’d heard of Cas’ book but he forgot when they disappeared into their bubble. He was smart to assume she’s heard of it.

Cas grips his hand tight and smiles back at Charlie and Sam. “You’ve heard of it?”

“Hell yeah, dude. It’s all they’re talking about on the Reddit comic boards. You guys are hot right now!”

The corner of Cas’ mouth twitches. “Really?” Charlie nods enthusiastically. “I’ll have to tell Gabriel.”

“You make a comic?” Sam asks.

“Graphic novel, dude!” Dean leans into Cas. “And Cas is badass with a palette.”

Sometimes when Cas comes over, he brings his supplies and paints or draws while Dean reads and it’s one of Dean’s new favorite things to do. He’s itching to take Cas on a photo walk, hopeful that the weather will  improve enough to get some good shots. He’ll have to check the forecast for the next few days. Dean’s off until Monday night and Cas mentioned hanging out.

Cas swats at him and drags Dean’s attention back to the table. “It’s fine, Dean, it _is_ in comic format.” Sam makes an _I told you so_ face at him and Dean sticks out his tongue and checks to see if Cas noticed. He’s still talking to Sam so Dean’s in the clear. “My brother and I are authors of a graphic novel, yes.”

“What’s it about?” Sam’s intrigued now, his love of comics outweighing whatever was making him bug out earlier.

Cas lets go of Dean’s hand while he tells Sam the premise of their book, explaining the story arc of the first book and laughing when Charlie clamps her hands over her ears to avoid spoilers. Dean listens as he pours them all refills and loads up everyone’s plates again. He laughs with them as Charlie shows Cas her Instagram post with his book in it from her last haul from The Booksmith and Cas blushes and smiles at Charlie’s excitement, swearing up and down he’ll sign her copy if she brings it to him. He even promises to get it signed by Gabe.

It's good. Dean's happy.

Cas orders another round of mimosas and more food when Meg stops by to clear their empty plates.

“Do you only know good-looking people, Clarence?” she coos at Cas. He nods his head with a mouthful of food, his eyes twinkling. Dean’s used to their banter by now, used to the dark looks Meg shoots him now and then. It doesn’t bother him, considering who Dean gets to go home with.

He wraps an arm around Cas. “Aw, Meg, you sweet on me?”

“You wish, Dean-o,” she calls out as she walks back to the kitchen.

“Stop flirting,” Cas scolds him with a kiss.

“Can’t help your girlfriend’s got a crush on me, Cas,” Dean teases. Cas rolls his eyes with a fond grin and turns back to the table. “I’m sorry, I can’t keep them apart.”

“What just happened?” Sam is bewildered as Charlie laughs into his shoulder.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older, Sammy,” Dean jokes.

The bitch face he gets in response caps off an already almost perfect brunch.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	9. Chapter 9

They’re all a little tipsy when they stand on the sidewalk in front of Fable. Cas and Charlie are huddled together, looking at something on his phone and Dean loves that they’re getting along so well. 

Dean’s a little bummed it’s not happening with Sam. 

_ A little? _

Okay, more than a little. A lot. It bothers Dean a lot. He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at his little brother, who’s watching Cas and Charlie with an odd smile on his face. Kinda pinched, actually. 

Dean sighs. 

“You guys wanna catch a movie or something?” Dean’s desperate to break the tension creeping back into the space between him and Sam. 

“The Roxie’s showing Oklahoma!,” Cas suggests. 

Sam shakes his head. “Nah, Charlie’s gonna drag me around to run errands and carry bags for her. Then I’m meeting up with some friends tonight.” He reaches out for Charlie and spins her around when she grabs his hand. “Shall we, my queen?” 

“Yes, Sir Winchester,” Charlie giggles. “You’re so noble to assist me while my Handmaiden is,” they shoot Dean and Cas withering looks, “otherwise disposed.” 

Dean snorts and Cas claps and bows, Dean’s weird family not even phasing him. They say their goodbyes and as he watches Sam and Charlie walk away, he thinks of Sam’s reaction to meeting Cas. If Dean knows anything, it’s his little brother, and if Sammy ain’t happy, Dean ain’t happy and now he has to fix it.

Cas tucks himself under Dean’s arm and reaches around to slip a hand in his back pocket. Except Dean’s pants don’t have back pockets so he squeezes Dean’s ass instead. 

Dean huffs out a laugh. 

“Wanna go to The Roxie and make out?” Cas asks with a kiss to Dean’s jaw. 

Dean gathers the sweet man in his arms. “Yeah. Let’s run upstairs and smoke first,” Dean suggests, wanting to think about this thing with Sam later. Much later. 

Cas hums in agreement and turns them back towards Dean’s. 

It’s not until the final “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” do they come up for air, both of them panting, hands in each other’s laps. 

_ Over the skirt, thank you very much. Dean’s a gentleman. _

It takes the entire credit scroll for either of them to be able to stand up without tented pants. They hold hands on the walk back to Dean’s, Cas singing songs from the movie, with an occasional harmony from Dean. He can’t stop sucking at Cas’ kiss-swollen lips and they take twice as long to get home but Dean doesn’t care. 

The sky looks like it wants to break wide open when they arrive and a crack of thunder sounds as they jog up the stairs. Max has photos of puddles lining the walls, different reflections of the city in each one. They’re all in monotone colors and Dean taps on the one with Cas’ bridge as they pass. 

Cas stops to stare. “I want to hang this in my house. Remind me to speak to Max about buying a print.” 

Heat crawls up Dean’s spine. “That—that one’s mine,” he stammers. Dean coughs and turns the key to let them inside. 

“What, really?” Cas squeezes his hips as he follows Dean inside. 

Cas heads to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee and Dean follows. “Took it a few days ago on my way home from work.” He rinses out the mugs from earlier and frowns at Sam’s still full. Cas takes it out of his hands and puts it in the sink. 

“It’s a gorgeous photo, Dean,” he says, pressing against Dean as he reaches for two more mugs. “I meant what I said.” He kisses Dean on the chin. “I’m going to change, pack a new bowl for us, and start this morning’s laundry. Want me to wash these?” he tugs on Dean’s pants. 

“No need to try and trick me out of my pants, Cas,” Dean teases. 

Cas shrugs. “Leave them off, I certainly don’t mind.” 

Dean loves to watch Cas walk away with his cute yoga butt. 

He turns on the fireplace and the heating pads he lines the window box with on cold days. Cas’ started calling the space Dean’s nest, and he’s not wrong. Relaxing with Cas cuddled into his chest while they watch TV, or across from him with their legs tangled while they read is Dean’s favorite and not just because it usually leads to hand jobs under the blankets. 

Dean throws his pants into the hamper when Cas passes by to start a load in the small laundry room Dean shares with the twins. When he comes back, Dean’s stretched across the bed in his underwear, having underestimated his reach towards his nightstand for his book. A warm hand wraps around his ankle and lifts his foot, soft lips skimming the curve of Dean’s bare foot. 

The shock shoots straight to his dick. Dean buries his face into the sheets and Cas laughs and bites Dean’s heel. Dean groans and Cas tightens his grip on Dean’s ankle. 

“Officer, do we have a little foot kink?” Cas runs a nail down the length of Dean’s foot and a shudder runs through him. “We’re exploring  _ that _ later,” Cas promises with a kiss to Dean’s big toe. 

_ Fuck yes. _

Dean sits up when Cas climbs into the bed across from him, pulling Dean’s feet into his lap. He gives one a squeeze before he picks up his pipe. Dean smirks at him and checks his phone, seeing a text from Sam.

He sighs and Cas looks up. He shakes his phone. “Message from Sam.” 

Cas raises an eyebrow and holds the pipe out to Dean. 

The weed helps him be brave. Dean opens the text. 

**> >I’m staying in the city tonight, wanna go for 5 in the morning?**

“Sam wants to talk.” 

Sam wants to talk while they run five miles, is what the text means. 

“Here,” Cas hands him the pipe. “Kill the rest of that and we’ll get inside the nest.” 

It’s raining when they crawl into the window seat together. Dean settles his head in Cas’ lap and watches fat drops of water streaming down the windows around him. Cas winds a hand through his hair and scratches lightly at his scalp. 

It’s comforting in a way Dean’s never experienced. 

Cas fiddles with his phone for a minute and then music is playing, jazz today. One thing Dean’s enjoyed about Cas is his extensive interest in music. Cas likes it all. And he’s good about setting the mood. A rainy afternoon with heavy talks looming in the distance calls for Dave Brubeck and Dean didn’t even know it. 

“Good call, babe,” Dean tells Cas with a kiss to his stomach. 

Cas smiles and sweeps his hand through Dean’s hair again. “Talk to me.” 

“I don’t know, Cas. He was acting so weird!” Dean clenches his fists. “Sam’s usually easy going, I swear.” 

“Dean, I thought brunch went well, overall.”

“Yeah but you had to have noticed his attitude.” 

Cas considers Dean’s words. “I suppose he was a little short at times? But honestly, it’s ok. Maybe he was nervous?”

Nervous.  _ Doubtful. _

Too much confidence maybe, but not nerves.

Sam Winchester does not get nervous. He didn’t get nervous when he was waiting to be accepted to Stanford. He wasn’t even nervous after his law school interview. Dean remembers sweating bullets for three weeks while Sam waited to hear back. 

No, his brother wasn’t nervous this morning.

He tells Cas about Sam’s nerves of steel as he sits up to drink his coffee. Cas leans against him and listens. 

“I think I know how this looks,” He tips his head back against the window. It’s cold against his scalp but he’s so warm and content, it just feels good. “I told you how Sam and me kinda crossed paths when I got back from the Army?” 

Cas nods. “And then there was the ex.” 

Dean sighs. “Yup. Her name was Lisa. I knew her from high school. She stuck around after becoming an LVN and we hooked up at a bar about a week after I got back.” He closes his eyes. Dean doesn’t want to have this conversation, but he figures enough time has passed and if Sam’s problem is what Dean suspects, Cas should know. 

Cas sits and sips his coffee, his free hand rubbing soothing circles into Dean’s knee and thigh as he talks. 

“I wasn’t working and was living back at my dad’s and used any excuse not to go home.” 

Cas raises his eyebrows. 

“That’s a story for another day, for sure,” Dean cringes. Daddy issues discussion? No fuckin’ thanks. Not today. 

One humiliating confession a day is Dean’s limit. 

“Lisa had her own place.” Dean shrugs. “She liked to party, I liked to drink, and she had a warm bed she wanted me in. It wasn’t rocket science; it was an infatuation.” He takes the last sip of his coffee. He could go for something stronger. 

“We partied. Too much. I moved in with her like, a month into it. And then it was on, you know?” He has no idea how Cas is gonna take this. Dean twists his fingers in the blanket they're sharing.

“Let me get us some refills before you go on,” Cas suggests, leaning in to kiss the apple of Dean’s cheek. He turns his head to brush their lips together. God, Cas is just—he’s too good for Dean.

Cas climbs out of the nest and drops his electronic pen in Dean’s lap before going back to the kitchen. 

_ Thank fuck. _

This shit is stressing him out and Dean wishes they were past it. The weed makes him cough, and it settles in his chest and throat. Dean closes his eyes and listens to the rain and the sound of Cas in his kitchen, cabinets opening and closing, the clink of a spoon against the porcelain mug. It’s so fucking domestic and comforting and Dean thinks it must be some kind of dream. 

Watching Cas walk back to him with two steaming mugs in his hands and a soft smile on his face gives Dean some weird confidence he didn’t have two minutes ago. Cas passes him the drinks and climbs back in, this time molding himself to Dean’s side, like he knows Dean needs skin to skin contact right now or something. Dean passes Cas his drink and slips his arm around him.

“Ok, so, you’ve moved in with Lisa.” 

“Right.” Dean sips his drink and holy crap, there’s bourbon in here. He gives Cas a  _ look. _

“Thought you could use something a little stronger.” Cas presses a kiss to Dean’s bare chest and takes his own drink. 

“Yeah, that happened and then it was downhill. I still wasn’t working, and I hated that about myself. I’ve always worked, you know? Even in high school, I helped out my uncle out at his garage.” He loved working with Bobby, with his hands. He can still take an engine apart and the car even runs when he puts it back together. “Not working made me feel useless and booze and weed helped me forget about it.” 

Cas burrows deeper if it’s even possible. Dean keeps going.

“Lisa liked pills. I mean, that was big then, Oxy. Easy to get.” Dean hates this chapter of his life, hates it with a passion. He wasn’t himself or maybe he was, maybe that person is still inside him and Sam’s suspicions will be justified. Dean pushes the thought away with a vengeance. 

_ Not Cas. _

“I never got into them; tried them but it wasn’t for me. Decided to stick to the other stuff.” He sighs. “I was a loser. And Lisa enabled me and I enabled her. She had a nine to five and after work, we’d be out doing dumb shit, thinking we were untouchable. Twenty-two and dumb as hell.” 

Dean checks to see what Cas might be thinking. He’s listening quietly his hands wrapped around the mug he’s taking occasional sips from. Dean’s nervous about this next part. 

“So we’re out there being young and dumb and then Lisa tells me she’s pregnant.” Cas stiffens next to him. Dean keeps going. If Cas is gonna run, this will be why. “She tells me at the fuckin’ bar and I freak out, Cas. I freaked the fuck out. Finished off a bottle and got behind the wheel.” 

Cas sits up and away from him. Dean clears his throat. 

“All I did was wreck my car. Broke my leg.” Cas relaxes. “I swear Cas, I know it was stupid and I know I’m lucky I didn’t kill anyone.” He shakes his head, ashamed. “That was my wake up call. That, and Sam coming home and ripping me a new one. Threatened to junk my car while I was laid up in the hospital, and when he found out what happened and heard about the baby—he was fucking pissed.” 

Cas leans back into him. 

“The baby turned out to be a scare.”

Cas relaxes under his arm. “After all that?” 

“After all that.” Dean huffs out a laugh. “So, I quit. Broken leg kept me on the couch so I stayed out of the bar and when it was all healed up, I didn’t want to do it anymore. The partying,” he explains. “I had to fix up my car, so I had to get a job and friend of my uncles was the chief of police. Got into the academy and joined the force a week after graduation.” 

Cas tilts his head up to kiss Dean’s jaw. 

“Lisa kept up with the crap. We stayed together.” Cas shakes his head. “I know, I knew then, but we’d already been together two years. Felt stupid throwing that away.” Cas slides his leg over Dean’s thighs. “I thought maybe if I had the good job and could be a good provider, she’d want to stop, maybe get a house or something. I picked out a ring.” He coughs to loosen the knot in his throat. 

It’s not like he’s upset about losing Lisa; Lisa did him a favor. No, Dean’s pissed at himself for falling into the idea that Lisa would want to change for him, for them and most importantly, for herself. She never gave the impression she would, he just wanted it to be true. 

Then again, if they were meant to be, he wouldn’t have wanted her to change at all. 

“Found her in bed with my friend, Cole. Who was also my partner.” Cas winces. “Yeah, that was completely fucked up. Packed my shit, gave my notice and high tailed it West.” 

Dean’s hand shakes as he drinks his coffee. It will be a miracle if Cas stays and chooses to hang out with someone who’s done as much dumb shit as Dean. 

To say the  _ very _ least, he’s surprised when Cas uses his leverage to straddle Dean’s thighs. He takes the mugs and puts them on the window sill. “That’s quite the origin story, Officer.” He leans in and it feels like Cas is kissing away each of his insecurities, one by one. “You think Sam is going to assume I’m Lisa 2.0,” Cas surmises. 

“Yahtzee,” Dean sighs. “My brother is nosey. He saw your stuff by the bed, he saw our sex sheets.” 

Cas stifles a laugh. “Okay, yeah I can see how that might look. And then I’m walking around the kitchen, serving him like he’s the guest and I’m not.” 

Dean disagrees about the guest thing but okay.

He shakes his head. “I’m happy you know my kitchen. I’m happy you’re here right now.” Dean pulls Cas in for a slow kiss. His relief is palpable. He wonders if Cas can feel it.

“Do you think we’re moving too fast, Dean?” Cas asks. Dean can hear a hint of fear in his voice. 

“Cas.” He takes Cas’ face in his hands. “I don’t. I like what we have, where it’s going. I like you.” He kisses Cas softly, Cas sighing against his lips as if  _ he's _ relieved. “I’ll straighten this out in the morning.” 

“And I promise I’ll never sleep with your partner,” Cas says, his eyes dancing. 

_ Smart ass. _

Dean slides his hands to grip Cas’ hips. He gives them a squeeze. “Lucky for me, I don’t have a partner,” he says as he nuzzles Cas’ neck. Cas laughs, his breath ghosting over Dean’s ear.

Their foreheads tip together and then there’s more kissing, and as the day goes on, more episodes of “Ugly Delicious” and a blow job that makes Dean’s eyes roll into the back of his head.

The next morning, Dean untangles himself from a very warm bed and a very warm Cas to get ready to run with Sam. He buzzes and Dean lets him up as he finishes the water and banana he’s eating. 

“Dean, you ready?” Sam calls as he enters.

Dean hushes him. “Dude, I got neighbors. And Cas is still sleeping.” He gestures towards his bedroom door. “You want some water or something?”

Sam’s staring at the closed door with a furrowed brow. “He's ok to just...stay here?”

“Yeah, man,” Dean huffs. Fucking little brother. “Thought we were doing this?”

_ This is gonna fuckin’ suck. _

Sam stays shockingly quiet the first two miles. Dean wonders if he’s reading all of this wrong and Sam just wanted to go for a run since they haven't hung out for a while. That’d be a fucking relief.

Mile three proves him wrong. Of fucking course it does. 

“Dean, I’m worried about you.”

_ Why does he wait until they’re halfway up a goddamn hill to open his mouth?  _

_ He doesn’t even sound winded. _

“Dude. Come on,” Dean hates to talk and run. “I already know what you’re gonna say.”

“That so?” 

“Yeah, you think I’m gonna spin out, lose my shit like I did with Lisa.” 

Sam trips a little. 

_ Ha! Dean’s right. _

“You were high at breakfast, Dean.”

“It was brunch, Sammy.”

“You know what I mean.” Sam stops running, thank fuck. Dean stops and leans down to rest his hands on his knees and catch his breath. “You’re doing drugs again? I can’t imagine the department would approve.” 

God, his little brother is a square. 

“Look dude, I take my job seriously, okay? Mary Jane’s legal now and Cas likes to smoke it and guess what, so do I. So do lots of people.” 

Sam looks nonplussed. “This is the same fucking road, Dean! You’re messed up all day and then work slips and then what? Go back to Lawrence? Ask dad to bail you out?”

“Jesus, Sam! What the hell? No!” Dean stands up straight. “It’s a little weed, man. On my day off, in the privacy of my own home. I’m not breaking any fucking laws.” 

Sam presses his lips together.

“This isn’t the same, Sammy,” he insists. “I’m good, I’m in the best place I’ve ever been. Back then, I was pretty messed up, no fuckin’ direction.” Dean clenches his jaw. He’s the big brother, he’s supposed to be the rock, and he feels as raw as he did the day he woke up in the hospital to Sam’s scared face, terrified of Dean’s failures and what they’ll mean for them both. 

Sam deserved better. Dean tells him. 

“So did you, Dean,” Sam pleads. “This guy shows up, gets you to smoke weed and drink away all your time off? He must stay over a lot, the way he acts in your house. Please tell me you can see the similarities.” 

“Twelve fucking minutes. You spent two fucking minutes in my room and ten in my kitchen and now you know it all?” Dean’s frustrated. “Maybe if you’d tried a little and not been a total dick, you’d see Cas is really cool. And he’s  _ not _ Lisa.” 

Sam pauses and his face softens. “Was I really a dick?”

“A little,” Dean huffs. “I noticed.” 

“His comic is pretty awesome. Charlie took me to a bookstore,” Sam admits. 

“Yeah, it is. I’ll let him know you think so.” 

“Look, Dean, I’m sorry okay?” Sam starts running again. “I just don't want to see you get hurt again.” 

They reach the top of Twin Peaks and Dean flops down onto the grass to catch his breath. The air is thinner this high up, but the view is amazing. Sam sits down next to him. 

“I know you’re trying to look out for me, Sammy, and I appreciate it.” Dean knocks their shoulders together and squints into the rising sun. It’s looking to be a beautiful day, the storm having passed in the night. “I’m the big brother, I’m the one who’s supposed to have their shit together and back then, I  _ didn’t. _ ” 

Sam nods because it’s not a lie. 

“But I do now, dude. And I don’t want you to worry about me, you have more important things to focus on.” If Sam’s grades slip because he’s worried about Dean, he’d never forgive himself. 

“You’ll tell me if something doesn’t feel right?” Sam asks with hesitation. 

Dean stands and reaches out to help Sam up, clasping his shoulder when he stands. “You’ll be the first person I call, promise.” 

“You seem happy, Dean,” Sam admits softly, like he’s scared of Dean’s reaction to talking about  _ feelings _ . “It’s good to see.” 

“Thanks, Sammy, appreciate that.” Dean needs a subject change, ASAP. “Now talk to me, tell me about school, tell me about the  _ girl. _ ” 

Sam looks caught out like he wasn’t expecting Dean to turn their conversation around on him. Dude should have known better. 

They start heading back in the direction they came. It feels good to run outside for once, compared to the treadmill at the gym. 

“Sarah, yeah, she’s great,” Sam starts. “We’ve gone out a few times. I’m uh, supposed to meet her parents next weekend.” 

Dean stops short. “What, really? And you’re up my ass about moving fast?”

“Shut up. Her parents are art dealers and they live in Los Angeles. They’ll be here to pick up some painting for an auction they’re holding. It’s just a convenience thing.”

“Yeah but, the parents, that’s a big step. You think you’re ready? Need some tips?” 

“What the hell do you know about meeting parents?” 

They both crack up because Sam’s not wrong. Dean’s never had to do the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing. Lisa’s were gone, and he grew up knowing Victor’s family. Dean wonders if Cas would ask him to meet his parents. 

“But seriously, you’re ready for that?” Dean asks because he needs to make sure.

Sam bobs his head. “Yeah, she’s great. I like her a lot.”

_ Well, well, well. His little brother likes a girl. They grow up so fast. _

“You gonna tell Dad about her?”

“You gonna tell Dad about Cas?”

“Hell no,” they answer each other at the same time with a grin. They both have their own issues with their dad but Dean suspects they are very different issues entirely. 

“‘Sides, Cas already met my parents,” Dean says with a wicked grin as they approach his building. Sam gives him a half hearted shove. 

“Do you guys wanna meet up next weekend? I’ll need to check with Sarah on a time but maybe we could—”  

“Dude, don’t say it—”  

“—Double date.” 

_ He fuckin’ said it. _

Sam looks so goddamn endearing Dean can’t say no. He points a finger at his baby brother. “I’ll check with Cas but don’t get excited.” 

“Come on Dean, it’ll be fun,” Sam waits while Dean unlocks the door. “Plus, she’s gotta meet my parent.” 

This fuckin’ kid. Dean gathers Sam in his arms for a tight hug, his hand squeezing the back of Sam’s head once before he lets go. 

“And I’d like to get a do-over with Cas,” Sam says and hell yeah, that’s his brother. 

“Wanna come say hello? He’s probably up by now and there’s probably coffee.” 

Sam quirks his eyebrows and nods as Dean pushes open the door. 

Heavy bass comes from the top of the stairs and Dean furrows his brow and looks at Sam. They head up the stairs, Dean in the lead. Yeah, the music is coming from his place. He gives Sam one last look before he opens the door. 

Muse’s “Supermassive Black Hole” fills the room, and it’s fuckin’ hot as hell once they step inside. Dean’s confused until Sam is elbowing him and staring to his left. Dean’s eyes trail over to the window and— _ son of a bitch. _

Cas has his black yoga mat set up in the space next to the window seat and he’s bent in half, his body making a perfect triangle with the mat. He’s wearing tight, black yoga pants that end just past his knees and his calves and thighs strain against the pose. Long lines of Cas’ back stretch under the ripped tank he wears. Dean can see cherry blossoms running up the side of his body. The muscles in Cas’ shoulders flex and his arms are thick with muscle. His skin is glistening, rays from the sun painting golden light over his sweating skin. 

Dean’s mouth goes dry. 

Dean doesn’t know how long he’s been staring but when Cas breaks his pose and lifts his right leg towards the ceiling, Dean’s eyes trail up Cas’ long leg before he remembers where the fuck he is. 

“Sam. Get out.” 

The door’s shutting behind his brother before Dean even finishes his sentence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Take Five](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmDDOFXSgAs) \- Dave Brubeck


	10. Chapter 10

**_Oh baby, don’t you know I suffer, oh baby, can you hear me moan?_ **

Dean locks the door behind Sam, bereft to tear his eyes away from Cas for even a second. He kicks his running shoes off and his socks follow and he steps back into his living room to take another look. 

**_You caught me under false pretenses. How long before you let me go?_ **

Fuck, Cas is so hot. He’s ridiculously hot. How is this real life? 

**_You set my soul alight_ ** _. _

Dean considers pinching himself as his eyes roam Cas’ body moving like a wave from one pose to the next, his muscles fluid and hypnotizing. He feels a sharp pain and realizes he’s breaking the skin on his lip from biting too hard. 

**_I thought I was a fool for no one, but oh baby, I’m a fool for you._ **

The song is lasting an eternity; the bass rattling Dean’s bones as Cas moves to it, his movements slow and fucking lithe. 

**_You’re the queen of the superficial, and how long before you tell the truth?_ **

Dean sucks in a breath when Cas turns his head towards him, his eyes dark and lust blown. He straightens as Dean crosses the room and Cas reaches for him, his hands twisting in the front of Dean’s shirt as they crash together, mouths hot and tearing each other apart. 

**_You set my soul alight._ **

Dean slides his hands around Cas’ waist to pull their hips together while Cas’ hands tangle in his hair, pressing their mouths into a tight seal. Dean slides a hand up Cas’ back and it’s slick with sweat, making Dean groan into Cas’ mouth. Cas drags his mouth down Dean’s jaw and licks long swipes against Dean’s skin, at the sweat pooling in the hollow of Dean’s throat. 

They’re both sweating in the hot room, their bodies slick with it. Dean can hear it dripping off them and it makes him shiver and grind his hips into Cas. His yoga pants hide nothing and Cas is thick under the lycra. Dean’s running shorts afford little in the way of coverage either and soon they’re rolling their hips together frantically. 

Cas winds his leg around Dean and lets go of his hair long enough to wrap him in strong arms and drag him safely to the ground, the vinyl of Cas’ yoga mat squeaking below them.  _ Fuck, Cas is fucking strong.  _

They sit facing each other, their legs hooked around each other’s hips, their thighs open. Dean leans forward and kisses Cas again, drinking in the little whimpers coming from the back of his throat. Cas has a goal in mind though and he breaks their kiss to lift his hips and peel his pants down, pulling one leg free at a time. It’s fucking bendy and hot and Dean stares in awe. 

“Like that, Officer,” Cas teases as he helps Dean out of his shorts, pulling them free and throwing them towards the couch. 

“Fucking bendy mother fucker,” Dean says before he reaches for Cas again. He’s thrilled when Cas uses his fucking core strength again—god damn show off—and plants his feet behind Dean to move his hips down in front of Dean, their hard cocks bobbing in the space between them. Cas reaches over to the built in basket under the nest and grabs a bottle of lube they opened just last night. He drops it between them and pulls Dean’s shirt off first, licking away the sweat across his chest and humming when Dean drops his head back and groans. He pulls his own shirt off and they’re both rocking their hips and making their cocks bump against each other. Their skin is still shiny, the temperature in the room relentless, heat radiating off both of them as they continue to kiss, pulling at each other’s lips with enthusiasm. 

Cas pulls Dean’s hand between them and pours a generous amount of lube in his palm before placing it on his own cock, Dean getting the idea quick and stroking down Cas’ shaft. He scoots his hips even closer, their thighs pressing into each other. Cas slicks up his own hand and wraps his fingers around Dean. They tip their foreheads together and watch, their breaths hitching while they jack each other off in the hot room, rock music surrounding them. 

Dean starts to fall apart as Cas mumbles his name, over and over, a mantra, each repetition of the word becoming more and more wrecked, until Cas is almost choking on it. When Cas laces their fingers together and squeezes Dean’s hand, Dean kisses him, hard, biting down on his lip until Cas cries out and looks down, Dean following his gaze to watch Cas erupt in his fist, his come hot and sticky between Dean’s fingers. He squeezes the tip, trying to get every drop. 

Cas lets go of Dean’s cock for a moment, scooping some of his dribbling come that spilled over onto Dean’s wrist and spreading it along Dean’s shaft and  _ fuck.  _

It’s easily the hottest thing anyone has ever done to Dean in his life. 

Until Cas presses his thumb into Dean’s slit and leans in to whisper, “you’re so fucking perfect, Dean,” and then Dean’s coming into Cas’ fist. He cries out against Cas’ sweaty shoulder and he mouths along the curve of his neck, Cas’ name spilling out of his mouth as he rides his orgasm. 

Cas talks him through it, peppering kisses along Dean’s cheek and letting him rest with their chests pressed together. Dean finally groans because he’s coming down from everything, his endorphins all fucked from the running and then the fucking and fuck, Dean’s ready to keep moving. 

He kisses Cas before pulling them both into a standing position. “Please,  _ please  _ turn the fucking heat down and then meet me in the shower, okay?” 

“I like a hot room when I do yoga.”

“Like you don’t make it hot enough,” Dean teases. 

Cas squeezes his ass. “Flattery will get you everywhere, officer.” 

Dean’s stomach growls as he turns on his shower and pulls out fresh towels for them. He scratches his stomach and thinks about what he’d like to eat when big hands wrap around his hips and rest on his thighs, Cas’ thumbs rubbing into Dean’s pelvis. A shudder runs through him, still overstimulated from his orgasm. Cas huffs a laugh into his back and reaches to test the water. 

He pulls Cas by the wrist so he can step into the tub first and Dean admires the ink that covers Cas’ body. The first time they were fully naked together and Cas showed Dean the rest of his ink, he was blown away by the amazing art. Cas’ body was his own personal canvas, and each tattoo meant something personal, according to him. 

Dean aches for the stories and he waits patiently for Cas to tell him. 

Right now, Dean’s too busy being thankful Cas didn’t run screaming after yesterday to even think about anything else. He’s happy to admire the ink as water runs over Cas’ bronze skin. 

Cas has tattoos on the back of both his thick thighs. The right has huge octopus tattooed there, dripping in swirls of black, purple, and blue paint, almost like watercolors tipped over and dripped down. Cas told him he drew it when he was sixteen and painted it and had the ink done when he was twenty-one. He said it was the first tattoo he got after he moved to San Francisco. 

The other was the second tattoo, a pair of koi swimming upstream on the opposite thigh. They looked sketched, rough lines and more splattered ink, like a fountain pen leaked. One fish was complete in black and grey lines and in the other, blue lines cut through black. The day after found Dean googling koi tattoo meanings, only to find it implied survival; overcoming an obstacle if the black fish is to be believed and finding peace, according to the blue. 

Dean wants to know if Cas feels as broken as he does, some days. 

But Dean waits. 

Unfolding on Cas’ back is a tattoo in progress. The first lines of a sitting buddha cover Cas’ back. One of the buddha’s hands is resting palm up in its lap and it holds the other up, making a circle with the thumb and pointer finger. The Internet told Dean that meant something like never ending energy and being open to learning and change. Cas sat for his first session a few weeks before he met Dean and Dean is excited to watch the art come to life. 

Right now he holds Cas under the stream of the water, kissing his neck softly and humming something senseless. Cas leans back into him.

“How did the run go?” 

Dean reaches for his loofah—yeah, it’s purple, so what—and pours some of his body wash into it, scrunching it in his hands a few times to work up the lather. He swipes it across Cas’ shoulders and answers him, “good. I think really good. He apologized.” 

Cas glances over his shoulder. “Were you expecting that?” 

“I was happy to get it. Never know what to expect with that kid.” Dean soaps down and over Cas’ ass, swiping each cheek before he squats down to run the loofah over Cas’ legs and down over his feet. His toes flex against the tile. Dean lifts each of Cas’ feet by his ankle to run the loofah over the bottom of his foot, rinsing it before setting it back down. He kisses a tentacle and then one of the fish’s noses and Cas laughs above him. 

Dean stands and slips his hand between Cas’ cheeks, rubbing gently against his hole while he runs the sponge over Cas’ dick, pressing it between the creases of his thighs. Dean pushes against Cas’ hole a little firmer each time and Cas sighs. He turns his head to kiss Dean, his lips soft and pliant. Dean pecks at them as he drags his hand up Cas’ back before moving around to the front. 

He presses his soft cock against Cas’ ass and it’s enough, it’s more than anything Dean needs, to have Cas’ trust without so much as a question. 

Dean tells Cas about Sarah while Cas washes his hair, Dean’s tea tree shampoo stinging his eyes when the suds drip off Cas’ wrists. He spits water out after rubbing his eyes clear. Cas tilts Dean’s head back, doing his best to block his eyes as he rinses Dean’s short hair clean. 

“So you’re cool with meeting this Sarah chick?” Dean asks, his throat tight. 

Cas sweeps his hands through Dean’s hair again and then kisses his Adam’s apple, encouraging him to lift his head. “She’s an art major, Dean. I might dump you and try to marry her.” 

Dean scoffs. “You’re way too gay for that.” 

“Now that, I cannot deny.” Cas’ smile is sweet when he kisses Dean again. “What shall we do today, honeybee?” 

Dean rolls his eyes. Cas started this honeybee shit a week ago when Dean brought home organic honey from the Farmer’s Market for Cas’ coffee. The Ferry Plaza had a market every Thursday, sue Dean for walking over for a burrito and just so happening upon the honey stand. 

Now it was bee emojis and this  _ honeybee _ stuff left and right. The first time Cas called him “his perfect honeybee” in bed, Dean came so hard he thinks he blacked out for a second. 

_ So he fucking likes the stupid nickname a lot. _

He buzzes in Cas’ ear and climbs out first, holding a towel open for Cas when he follows. 

“I was thinking we’d go for a drive. I could bring my camera.” 

Cas nods enthusiastically. “I’d love that, let’s do it.” He towel dries his hair and his gorgeous body is just,  _ out  _ and within reach and Dean has to take a deep breath and focus. 

“Where did you want to go?” Cas’ question snaps Dean back to the moment. 

“I was thinking we’d go see your bridge,” Dean says, like it’s a casual thing, Cas’ bridge. 

Cas is on him in a second, firm lines pressing against Dean. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he grins as he kisses Dean’s jaw. He leaves just as quick, his ass a blur as he goes into the bedroom. Dean trails behind for another glimpse. Cas is already pulling on sweats and talking to Dean over his shoulder. 

“—it should only take a few minutes, is that cool?” 

Dean has no fucking clue what Cas just asked him. “Sorry man, your ass is really distracting. What was that?”

Cas cackles and flops down on the bed, tipping his hips up. “What about this?” 

“Don’t you dare, I will cancel our plans and—”  

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry. I was asking if we could run by my place so I can get dressed, grab my own camera.” 

“Yeah, sure. Gimme a few and we can go.” Dean is burning with curiosity to see Cas’ place. They’ve stopped by and Dean’s seen the inside the garage, whatever Cas needs usually right inside the door. Most of their time is spent out or at Dean’s and Dean doesn’t have a problem with it but he is really fucking curious. 

They hold hands as they walk the block and a half to Cas’, this time approaching from the front. It surprises Dean when they go in that direction, along the storefronts. They literally never come this way but Dean knows this is Cas’ building because he’s walked by it a million times. A simple black sign hangs out over the sidewalk, Novak Brother Creations printed in a simple typewriter font, the words Est. 2012 in a smaller size below it. Art covers the windows and the front of the building, a pattern that mimics one on Cas’ back. Dean’s pretty sure Cas created and probably painted the art on the front of the building himself. 

Cas unlocks the door and pushes inside, pulling Dean behind him. They enter a small hallway, much like Dean’s but instead of just stairs, there’s a doorway leading to the right with an old sofa pressed up against the wall. The stairs lead up and it’s dark at the top. A fast bass line plays behind the closed door and Cas tugs Dean’s hand towards the stairs, taking them fast. 

The door at the top of the stairs isn’t locked and Cas goes in, closing it behind Dean. He holds an arm out in a sweeping gesture to introduce Dean to his home. “This is kind of community space, the kitchen,” he gestures towards the open kitchen, a big, stainless steel fridge dominating the corner of the room. “The living room, and past that, Gabriel’s room through those double doors back there.” One of the French doors hangs open, the room beyond it dark and taking up the back half of the floor. The ceilings are high and it feels open, like a loft. Light streams in from the long windows. Dean sees a few rolled up yoga mats against the wall, a small altar and a squishy couch in the middle of the room. It’s clean, and it smells nice and Dean really enjoys the space. 

Cas gives him another moment to glance around before opening another door to another staircase to the third floor. It’s narrow and Cas talks over his shoulder as they go up. “After our nightmare apartment, we bought this building. Five years ago it was completely trashed. We got a fucking steal and we’ve been working on it one project at a time.” 

The floor plan opens when they reach the top of the stairs and it’s similar up here, the space split between rooms. It’s obvious this is studio space, one side of the room covered in canvas and drop cloths and unfinished projects. Coffee cups fight for room on small tables covered in paint brushes and colors and the faint smell of chemicals hang in the air. 

“Studio.” Cas says unnecessarily with a grin. He points at the sliding glass door against the back of the room. “Rooftop.” Ooh, right, Dean wants to take a look at that soon. Cas unlocks a door and gets Dean’s attention, stepping into what can only be his room. Cas makes a beeline for another door in the corner and leaves Dean to his own devices. 

The room is big, taking up half of the floor. Dean can see where Cas has tried to split the space up, a paper divider standing between the two sides. One has a couch that looks like it’s been beat to hell and back, covered in blankets and pillows, sketch books stacked around the sides and a half way read paperback facedown. Succulents line the windows there, making the space feel alive. Large, draping scarves filter the light coming in, altering it so different colors splash across the floor. 

Dean wants to see what Cas looks like when he laughs in the light of this room. 

His eyes drift over to the side that’s obviously Cas’ bedroom. More long windows line the room, all of them draped with more scarves, these darker and made up of blacks, grays, allowing the room to seem dim. The room Cas walked into must be a bathroom, Dean can hear him moving around inside. There’s a bed sitting on some wood pallets in the corner of the room, white sheets contrasting the headboard, also made of pallets screwed together and stained dark. A warm light shines from behind it, making the bed glow. More scarves drape over the bed from one wall to the other and it looks so soft and cozy, sure to give his nest at home a run for its money. 

A low table sits at the foot of the bed, a few candles and a glass bong sitting out. Art is everywhere, it’s on every wall in paintings and written word, the biggest painted on the wall above the bed, the quote “I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.” painted there in slanted handwriting Dean’s come to recognize as Cas’. 

“Van Gogh.” 

Cas’ voice behind him startles Dean, and he turns. Cas stands in the doorway to his bathroom, one corner of his mouth quirked up. He has on a dark gray beanie, his hair sticking out the top and curling around the band. Cas always manages to make looking good look really easy. He’s wearing a black, faded Ramones shirt under a jean jacket, ridiculously tight black pants with tears on the top of the thighs, and brown boots. 

Dean swallows thickly. 

_ Fuck, Cas looks good in his space.  _

“I like that quote because it reminds me to love, every morning. Really helps on the days I don’t think I can,” Cas’ smile turns tight and he hurries across the room to rummage in a cabinet until he pulls out his camera. 

Dean's chest aches at the things Cas isn't saying.

Cas holds out an old Leica that looks to be in decent shape. Dean must look excited because Cas passes it to him with a kiss. 

Dean turns it in his hands. “This thing is awesome, Cas. Have you shot a lot with it?” 

Cas shakes his head as he puts his phone and wallet in his pockets. “I went through a phase but it didn’t last. I take it out and clean it every few months, but that’s it.” 

“Can I try this out later?”

“Of course, Dean.” 

Dean’s fucking stoked. He shoots with a Pentax he’s had for years but he’s been itching to try something new for a while now, especially after Max let him take his Nikon for a spin a few months back. He checks the Leica for film and everything seems in order. Cas even slips a few extra rolls of film in the hip bag he has slung across his chest. 

He takes the camera back from Dean and slips it into the bag before wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck for a kiss. 

“I like your place, Cas.” 

“Yeah?” Fluttering kisses against Dean’s jaw make his heart race. 

“Mmm hmmm. We should spend more time here.” 

“That can be arranged, Officer.” 

They lose ten, fifteen, ok thirty minutes to kissing before Cas pulls them apart and leads Dean back down the stairs. They’re discussing lunch and passing through the second floor when a clearing throat from the sofa stops them both in their tracks. 

“Well, well, well, little brother. Trying to sneak past me without having to introduce your new friend?” 

The infamous Gabriel jumps up and crosses over to them. He’s shorter than Dean was expecting, floppy brown hair falling onto his forehead and a smarmy smile on his face. He looks Dean up and down as he approaches and Cas huffs beside him. 

_ Guess we’re doing this. _

Dean holds a hand out and Gabriel clasps it tight, shaking Dean’s hand up and down with quick, jerky movements. The movement and Gabriel’s grip is on the right side of uncomfortable but Dean smiles through it. 

“Hey, man, I’m Dean,” he greets Gabriel. “Cas talks a lot about you.” 

“Gabriel, but my friends call me Gabe.” 

“Gabe, nice to—  

“Gabriel,” he corrects Dean.  _ O-kay then.  _

“Gabriel, then.” 

“If you’re done posturing,” Cas interrupts, pushing Gabriel back out of Dean’s personal space. He turns on him. “I thought we talked about this.” He turns back to Dean, his eyes pleading. “I was going to talk to you about meeting my brother, I swear. I—”  

“Cas, come on, it’s fine,” Dean shakes his head and touches Cas softly on the shoulder. Some tension in Cas’ shoulders loosens. 

Gabriel rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands clasped behind his back and a smirk on his face. He’s still studying Dean. 

“You were right about those freckles, Cassie. Tres adorable.” 

Dean flushes and Cas protests. “Please shut up, please,” he begs his brother. “We’re going.” He grabs Dean by the hand and all but drags him out of the house. 

“Nice to meet you, Gabe,” Dean calls back behind him as he lets Cas drag him outside. Cas won’t look at him as they go back to Dean’s for his car and Dean stops them outside his garage. 

“Babe,” Dean wraps Cas up in his arms. 

“I’m so sorry, Dean, that was so awkward and—”  

“It’s  _ okay. _ ” Dean presses their lips together. “Is he always like that?” 

Cas buries his face into Dean’s chest. “Yes, I wanted to sufficiently warn you and I asked him to stay in our office this morning. That was probably my first mistake.”

He sounds so miserable Dean can’t stand it. He tilts Cas’ face up by the chin. “Do you really think my freckles are adorable?” 

Cas’ eye roll is impressive, especially when he throws his whole body into it. “Can we please go?” 

“Come on, Cas, babe,  _ I _ think I’m adorable but it’s not often I hear it from an outside party,” Dean pulls Cas’ car door open as he teases him. 

When Dean climbs in the car, Cas grabs him by the shirt and pulls him in for a hot kiss. “You’re the hottest man in any room, Dean,” He deadpans. “No contest.” 

“Now you’re makin’ me blush again,” he says with a kiss to Cas’ nose. He shoves Cas over to his side, Cas laughing as his ass slides across the leather. He buckles his seatbelt and flashes Dean a gummy smile as he settles in his seat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Supermassive Black Hole](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pta-gf6JaHQ) \- Muse
> 
>  
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> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)  
> [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	11. Chapter 11

Dean was right. 

When he thought Cas would look incredible in his car, he was fuckin’ right and it takes everything he has not to pull over and drag Cas into the backseat for an hour or two. Dean can’t stop glancing at him. The window is rolled down and Cas has one tanned arm propped in the sill, his elbow cocked and his hand relaxed. Two black, beaded bracelets are wrapped around his wrist and the wind is causing his hair to flutter and its god damn distracting is what it is. 

Dean fumbles with the radio as a means of distraction from the distraction next to him before focusing on the road and the bridge traffic they’re approaching. It’s just commercials and Cas leans in to spin the dial, looking for a station. Dean slings an arm around him and it’s not until a catchy beat is coming from the speakers and Cas is settling against his arm does Dean realize Cas touched his radio. And he didn’t give a shit. Barely even blinked.

Sam almost pulled back a nub last time he tried to touch Dean’s radio. Huh. 

The beat goes on, lovelytheband’s “Broken” playing from the speakers. 

_ I like that you’re broken, broken like me. Maybe that makes me a fool. _

The song plays and as he listens, he absentmindedly rubs his thumb against the back of Cas’ neck as he cranes it back to watch the bridge pass around them. The stretch of his throat has Dean’s eyes drifting. 

_ I like that you’re lonely, lonely like me. I could be lonely with you. _

Dean wants to know more about Cas, so much more that it makes him feel greedy, which makes him feel like pressing Cas about his life would be a mistake. Things between them are so good, Dean’s terrified to rock the boat. 

Dean can feel Cas’ eyes on him and he smiles; he can’t help it. Cas laughs and it fills the car, mixing with the music and making the moment that much more perfect. 

_ There’s something tragic, but almost pure. Think I could love you, but I’m not sure.  _

When Dean looks at Cas laughing in his car against a blur of passing blue sky and red metal, he thinks Cas was right about the magic of this bridge. 

_ Life is not a love song that we like. We’re all broken pieces floating by. _

The impression he gets is that Cas has been through it and knowing who he is now tells Dean that Cas is strong as hell. Maybe Cas needs to hear it. 

Maybe Dean's the one who wants to tell him. 

_ Life is not a love song, we can try, to fix our broken pieces one at a time.  _

Dean considers that Cas stayed with him, after his confessions, after Cas learned the things Dean’s ashamed of and wishes he could change, things Dean hates about himself. Cas  _ stayed _ and made Dean feel like none of that shit mattered to him, like Dean didn’t wear any of those terrible choices around his neck as penance. 

Cas scoots closer to him and when Dean’s hand wraps around his shoulder, Cas weaves their fingers together. Dean pulls him close and presses a kiss to his temple. 

Maybe that other shit really  _ doesn't _ matter. 

Dean drives them to Hawk Hill, Cas getting more excited as he tells Dean about how this used to be the highest point on the bay and thus, used by the military for two huge air guns to protect the harbor. Cas says he's been up here before but he’s been dying to spend more time exploring the different trails. 

They climb up the steep stairs to reach the summit and Cas wraps an arm around Dean’s waist as they stare out over the entire San Francisco Bay, the Golden Gate standing proud, a stoic entrance to the bustling city. They stand together like that, Cas tucking his head in the crook of Dean’s neck, content to just breathe with him. A cool breeze runs over them and Cas pulls him tighter. 

Why is it so damn easy to stand here and just  _ exist _ with Cas and have that be enough? 

Dean pushes those thoughts down and presses a kiss to Cas’ temple before breaking their embrace to retrieve the cameras from the car. 

“So, how does this work?” Cas asks as he fiddles with his camera. “We walk around and take pictures?”

“Sounds boring when you put it that way,” Dean huffs out a laugh. “I brought film and digital. I like to play with my shots on the digital before I commit it to film.” Cas nods thoughtfully. 

Dean hands him his digital camera and Cas hands over his Leica. They walk a ways, Cas peering through the viewfinder again and again as he lines up shots. Dean makes suggestions of things he can capture and takes film shots of things Cas enjoys the most. 

He shows Cas what the different settings mean and takes over when the film needs to be changed about an hour into their walk. 

They were sitting together in the shade of a tree until Cas got up to take more pictures of the bay. Dean's focusing on loading the camera and lifts his head when leaves crunch on the ground near him, Cas approaching the grove they've commandeered. 

Cas stops in the shade and lifts the camera to point it straight at Dean. 

He holds up a hand. “Cas, no. Nope, no way.” Dean likes being  _ behind _ the camera, not in front of it. 

“Aw, come on, please, Dean,” Cas whines and it's not cute, damn it. 

Dean shakes his head and keeps his face down, scowling when he peeks back up at Cas as the camera beeps and the shutter clicks. Cas drops the camera away from his face and squats down next to Dean. 

“What if we take one together?” He's looking at Dean with his big blue eyes and how the hell can Dean say no to that? He tugs Cas down to his side and Cas kisses his scowl away before he holds out the digital camera and snaps a few shots of them smiling together. His lips slide to Dean's cheek and Dean smiles wide for the picture but mostly because he can't stop himself. 

Cas uses the preview feature on camera and flips through their pictures, holding it out to show Dean.

“Our first picture together.” Cas is beaming as Dean looks at the back of the camera. Everything is green behind their heads and in the middle, they're leaning towards each other, heads tilted together. Dean’s smile is genuine and wide and Cas is smiling too, that happy smile that makes his eyes crinkle. His favorite thing about the picture is Cas’ gaze, his eyes locked on Dean while Dean looks at the camera. 

Dean wonders how many copies is  _ too many _ to have printed. 

“You look so handsome, Officer,” Cas mentions as he flips through the rest of the photos. “How'd I land me such a hottie?”

“Your great ass helped.” Dean snaps the back of the Leica shut and puts it on top of Cas’ bag. 

Cas laughs and plops his head on Dean's lap, now that the camera is out of the way. He closes his eyes and tilts his chin up, a lone ray of light leaving a splash of gold across Cas’ cheek. Dean adjusts a setting and brings the Leica to his face, adjusting the focus on Cas and pushing down the shutter button. 

Cas smiles when he hears it but doesn't open his eyes so Dean takes another picture. 

“Now you owe me two shots of you,” He says, still wearing a smile. 

“As long as you don't mind my Blue Steel.” Dean leans down and kisses Cas on the nose. “And you can only get my good side.”

“Such a diva.”

“Damn straight.” 

“Straight is kinda pushing it, don’t you think?” 

Dean growls and kisses Cas’ lips this time. He can't get enough. “Smart ass.” He curls over as Cas pushes up, a hand wrapping in Dean's hair as they kiss. And kiss. And Deans pretty sure he's never gonna get tired of the way Cas’ mouth tastes. 

Cas pushes himself into a sitting position and cups Dean's jaw. “I want to come back here in the summer and draw you in this grove.”

A shiver races down Dean's spine, Cas’ request feeling really fucking  _ intimate,  _ for lack of a less cheesy word. Can Dean even handle that intense gaze for that long? 

_ Fuck, who cares, say yes, dumbass! _

_ And be cool about it.  _

Dean goes for the laziest smile he can. “Put it on the list,” he says with a shrug and Cas positively beams and it makes Dean's heart race. 

Before they go, Dean moves the car over to another bluff, this one less crowded. Cas sits on the trunk after Dean suggests it and he looks towards the bay. The sun's low, not yet sunset but low enough to make the light heavy. 

It’s what photographers refer to as the Golden Hour, a prime time of day to shoot when everyone and everything looks amazing through the filter of the fading day. Cas is no exception, the San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate bridge as his backdrop and Dean thinks he’s never seen anything so gorgeous in his life. 

Cas grins at him in the dusk and it makes Dean lightheaded, flooded with warmth and Cas’ amazing energy that consumes Dean and fuck.

_ He's falling in love.  _

It makes Dean stop short and wait for the freak out but—it’s not there. And that’s… fine. 

_ Huh. _

He studies Cas in the light again and doesn’t bother to keep himself from leaning in and kissing him before he gets to work. 

Dean tells Cas not to move and frames a few shots before he pulls out the Leica and clicks the shutter. He drops to a crouch and shoots low, only the fender and Cas’ boots in the frame, a sliver of the bay on one end. That's gonna look amazing in black and white. 

Dean takes a picture of Cas’ face when he sees him staring, his eyes following Dean's every move. He holds still for the photo, looking down at Dean, his gaze unwavering. Dean takes a hitching breath. 

When he stands, Cas tugs him by the camera strap and pulls Dean between his legs. He wraps a lazy arm around Dean's head and kisses him, their lips a slow slide with just the right amount of desperation. Cas’ fingers are tangled in Dean’s hair when Dean holds the camera out. His grip tightens when Dean slides his mouth away for a second to make sure the camera angle is right, and Cas pants against his cheek, hot breath making Dean groan and close his eyes. Cas’ hand twists in Dean's hair and he presses the shutter almost on instinct and then Cas has his legs around Dean's waist and he's pulling Dean in from every angle and it's so much. 

“Let’s go back to my place,” Cas suggests when he pulls them apart. “I know somewhere that delivers.” 

All Dean can do is nod, his words stuck in his throat and threatening to choke him. He wants to tell Cas how much he likes him, how much he wants them to be together, in every way possible. Dean pulls Cas off the back of his car with a tug of his hands. The light is almost gone and the shadows are long but then a wide smile spreads across Cas’ face and it’s like watching the sun rise. 

_ Dean’s completely done for.  _

Dean’s never gotten them home faster and so what if his foot was a little more heavy than usual on the gas pedal? He’s an officer of the law, good driving is a prerequisite.  

He parks his car and grabs what he needs from his place before they’re walking back to Cas’ hand in hand. Dean’s nervous; they’ve never slept over at Cas’ before. He shouldn’t be nervous, it’s Cas. Cas hangs out at Dean’s so often, he’s already comfortable in Dean’s space. Dean can only hope he feels the same ease Cas does. Then again, Cas has a knack for making Dean feel at ease no matter where they go. 

He squeezes Cas’ hand before Cas lets go to unlock the garage and let them inside. It’s the back of the hallway now and the downstairs office is dark when they turn to go upstairs. 

“My brother is out tonight,” Cas tells him over his shoulder. 

Dean relaxes a little, glad it’s gonna be just the two of them their first night in a new space. New to them, anyway. 

“I was relieved when he said he had plans tonight,” Cas admits as they enter the second floor. Gabriel’s french doors are closed and it’s dark behind them. It makes Dean feel less bad knowing Cas is relieved too. 

He puts Dean’s backpack by the stairs to the third floor and goes to the fridge, taking out a few beers for them. He twists the caps off and throws them in the garbage. Not sure what else to do, Dean follows and sits on a barstool at the island. 

Cas nudges Dean’s knees open and presses a beer into his hands. He tips their foreheads together. “Relax, officer. I want you to make yourself at home, ok?” Cas tips his chin up to kiss Dean. The tension melts from Dean’s shoulders. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get changed? Dinner should be here in a minute and I’ll be right behind you.” He pushes his keys into Dean’s hand. “It’s the key with the batman logo.” 

Dean stands with a smirk, digging his own keys out of his pocket to show Cas  _ his _ Batman key. 

“Great minds, Dean,” Cas says with a nudge. Dean goes, climbing up the stairs to push into the third floor. A lamp inside the door is lit and Dean heads straight for Cas’ room, unlocking it and stepping inside. 

It smells like smoke and that citrusy smell of Cas that Dean loves so much. Dean takes a deep breath and drops Cas’ keys on the table just inside, dropping his bag by Cas’ bed. He flips the lights on and the room lights up on one side, the bedroom staying dark. A salt lamp glows and makes the room pink and warm. There’s another switch by the bathroom door and Dean flips it, this time lighting up the bedroom. The light behind the headboard glows but now, strings of fairy lights are woven in the scarves up the walls and over the bed. 

It’s goddamn romantic. 

He takes his backpack inside the bathroom, turning the light on. So far, it’s the brightest part of Cas’ room but even that is being generous. The light is blue-ish white and almost makes Dean feel like he’s underwater. There’s a giant claw-footed tub on one side of the room, a rain shower head installed over it. The room is trying to be industrial but Cas’ made it feel soft. A large mural made of blues and greens adorns the walls, painted to look like crashing waves in watercolors. 

Painted in his sloppy scrawl, Cas has written, “The ocean is everything I want to be. Beautiful, mysterious, wild, and free.” It takes up almost the entire wall and it’s gorgeous. The rest of the bathroom is painted in the same colors and patterns, hints of purple blended in here and there. Dean loves it. 

The sink is built into a long countertop, mostly bare save a few toiletries and some candles. A lighter sits behind them and Dean uses it to light the candles, the flames adding to the feel of the room. He washes his face and runs wet hands through his hair before he changes into some loose cotton pants that hug his ass and an old army t-shirt. It fits a little snug, but it’s the only thing he brought to sleep in so he’s gotta make do.

He throws his dirty clothes on top of Cas’ hamper and steps out. Cas is there, unpacking their takeout at the small table in the corner. 

“Dean, have you had Kitchen Story for dinner? Charlie told me you guys have been there for brunch before.” Cas turns. “I ordered their hamburger which is hardly—”  He cuts off when he sees Dean, his breath hitching a little. Dean looks down but doesn’t notice anything different. He doesn’t have an inappropriate boner or anything. 

Cas shakes his head and looks pained to turn back to the food. He clears his throat. “Uh, as I was saying, I got a hamburger and their short rib tacos, I figured we could share since it’s a good amount of food and I didn’t know if you’ve ever been and—”  

“The food sounds great, Cas,” Dean slides a hand up his back to sooth him. Maybe Cas really is as nervous as Dean. 

“Let’s eat on the couch,” Dean suggests, grabbing their beers and sitting down. Cas follows him and sits, busying himself with dishing out their food. Dean wraps his fingers around Cas’ wrist to still him. 

Cas swallows noisily.

“Hey, why don’t you go change and let me take care of this. Bring us back something to smoke before we eat, maybe?” Hopefully this will help them both relax. 

Cas nods and stands, still silent. Dean’s fingers are still wrapped around his wrist when he tries to go but Dean tugs him back, pulling him down for a sweet kiss. 

“I’m happy to be here with you, Cas,” Dean murmurs against his lips. Cas kisses him, hard and then he’s gone. 

Dean releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. This is stupid, they’re being stupid. He loads their plates and smiles when Cas comes back in his own sleep pants and an old Neil Young band shirt, sleeves cut off and obviously well worn. His hair is wet and sticking up where he dragged his hand through it and he’s wearing his glasses and looking absolutely delicious. 

The food is good, the weed is great, and Dean’s pretty sure Cas is feeling much better by the time they’re done eating. He laughs at every stupid thing Dean says and he’s trying to catch his breath when Dean stands and gathers their dinner plates. 

“You can’t be serious, Dean,” Cas huffs between laughs. “You’re making that up.” 

“Look Cas, you’ll soon learn that hanging out with my baby brother means you won’t have to embellish a story for the rest of your life,” Dean gathers all the trash and puts it outside the door. “He ran off to the bathroom and came back with a list of local nursing schools and he asked that stripper for her email address before we left!” 

Cas bursts into peals of laughter. It warms Dean through and through. 

“Knowing Sam, he still talks to her, checks in.” Cas shakes his head and repacks the bong, still smiling. “Ask him,” Dean insists with a laugh. 

Cas takes a big rip and leans in to kiss Dean, sharing the smoke with him when Dean’s lips part. The smoke burns his throat as he holds it in and Cas smiles against his lips as a hit spreads through them. 

They take turns shotgunning until the bowl is spent and Cas almost tumbles to the ground when he reaches to put the bong down. Cas giggles when Dean wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him into his lap. 

“If you want to watch TV, we can go downstairs,” Cas says as Dean nuzzles his neck. 

“Don’t wanna watch TV.”

“What would you like to do, my sweet bee,” Cas asks, his voice a rumble in his throat. Dean presses his lips there. 

“Wanna kiss you,” Dean murmurs as he slips a hand under Cas’ shirt. Cas lets out a little moan and Dean needs to hear more. He brushes his thumb over Cas’ nipple, again and again until it pebbles under his touch.

“Dean,” Cas groans out, pushing into Dean’s touch. His skin is hot and Dean presses his fingers in. 

“Cas,” Dean whispers into Cas’ skin. He’s overheating in the crook of Cas’ neck and he never wants to move. “Want you so bad.” He trails kisses across the line of Cas’ jaw, Cas’ stubble making his lips tingle. Cas is making these little panting sounds, soft sighs that he rolls around in his mouth while Dean makes his way there. Dean wants to swallow every single one. 

He arrives at his destination, Cas’ lips soft and parted and wet where he’s been licking them. He tastes like the mango salsa that came on the tacos and Dean smiles. 

“What, what’s so funny,” Cas pants out, sounding disappointed about them stopping. 

“You taste like salsa,” Dean says before he leans back in. 

Cas groans and rolls off him, landing with a thud on the floor. Dean looks down at him and frowns. 

_ Why isn’t Cas in Dean’s lap again? _

“Why did you go?” he asks, the words coming out wrong but still sounding right in his head. 

“I don’t want to taste like fucking salsa. Let’s get ready for bed.” 

“But, I like salsa,” Dean pouts. 

“Better get off that sweet ass of yours if you want another taste then,” Cas teases as he eases away from Dean. 

He finds Cas in the bathroom, hand hovering over his toothbrush and a sly smile on his face in the mirror. Cas turns as Dean approaches, grabbing him by the shirt before Dean presses them together, taking Cas’ mouth with his. Dean grabs him behind the thighs to sit him on the counter, knocking over a stick of deodorant. Cas giggles and wraps his legs around Dean, kissing him hard. He lets Dean explore his mouth for another moment before pulling them apart. 

“I want you to take me to bed so can we please brush our teeth and get naked already?” 

Dean’s dick twitches, his blood rushing. Cas grins because he can feel it. 

“That’s what I thought, Officer.” Cas leans over and grabs both their toothbrushes and slathers on the toothpaste, all without having to unlock his legs from around Dean. Dean doesn’t help, instead intent on the naked portion of the evening. He pushes at the hem of Cas’ shirt, leaning in to lick at Cas’ skin. 

Cas guides him up by the chin and practically shoves the toothbrush in his mouth. Dean takes it and grins, giving it his all in hopes of hurrying this along. Cas’ skin isn’t going to kiss itself. 

Dean daydreams about it, the miles of golden skin, Cas’ firm muscles rippling under his tongue. He thinks about the weight of Cas’ cock in his mouth and he grins a little. 

Cas notices. “What are you thinking about?” He leans over to spit out his toothpaste. 

Dean pulls out his toothbrush and grins. “Your dick.” He leans down and spits. He’s barely rinsed his mouth when Cas is on him, their cold mouths quickly growing hot again. 

Cas tightens his legs and rolls his hips. “Do you want it, Dean?” 

_ Oh yes, he does.  _

“Yeah, yeah Cas,” Dean wants Cas so bad his voice is thick with desire, his body burning up against Cas’. “Let’s get to the naked part now.” 

Cas laughs and Dean cant fucking get over how much he loves it. He wants to make Cas laugh every single day. It’s like, his new mission in life. Dean kisses Cas’ Adam’s apple and the laugh stutters. One more kiss and Dean pulls away, Cas’ legs dropping. 

Cas takes him by the hand and shuts off the light in the bathroom. His bed glows, and Dean stares at all the colors playing under the tiny white lights, blotches of color bleeding one into the next, making the space feel intimate. The draping scarves create a canopy of color and Dean wants Cas to tell him the name of every shade. 

The room gets even more dim when Cas shuts off the lights on the other side and Dean looks over to see him approaching. Cas fiddles with something on his dresser and music starts playing from somewhere inside, more soft beats from the Lo-Fi hip hop Cas enjoys so much. Dean’s really started to like it too. 

Cas walks on his knees over the bed to pull Dean in, the mattress giving under the weight of their bodies. Cas intertwines their hands and leans into Dean. “Fancy meeting you here,” Cas whispers into the space between them.

“Fancy meeting  _ you _ here,” Dean whispers back and closes the distance. He’s happy to kiss Cas all night but Cas has other ideas, pulling at the hem of Dean’s shirt. 

“You came out in this and fuck—I wanted you right then, Dean,” Cas confesses. “But now I want to rip it off your body and that would be a disservice to future me so please, take it off for me.” 

_ Fuck. Fuck. Okay.  _

Dean takes a steadying breath and locks eyes with Cas as he peels the shirt off, his arms stretching high, making his hands brush the hanging scarves. The light dances across Cas’ face. 

Cas copies him, pulling his shirt off and tossing it behind them to the floor. Dean stares because Cas is staring and neither of them care, content to try and memorize each other’s bodies. Cas is the first to reach out, wanting to grasp Dean’s hand. Dean takes it and it’s shaking. 

He cups Cas’ face and searches his eyes for any distress. They flicker with it but Cas’ gaze turns trusting, the corners of his eyes softening as Dean looks at him. Dean pulls him down so they’re facing each other and Dean kisses him. 

“You’re ok?” 

Cas nods. 

Dean looks up. “I bet this is what being inside a rainbow feels like.” He looks back down at Cas whose eyes are wide and wild and then Dean is being kissed like never in his entire life. And Dean’s done a lot of kissing. 

Cas’ mouth is like a prayer; Dean accepts the benediction and it makes him feel new. 

The room fills with the sound of rustling sheets and wet kisses, both of them making soft noises around each other's lips.

A low, sultry beat starts, skips and pops playing under the track. Their kisses turn urgent, both of them trying to lick deeper into the other’s mouth as hands slide and grab at skin. They fumble with waistbands and their limbs drag together while they try to push their pants off at the same time. 

Their knees knock together as they gain access to skin and Cas keeps running his hand up and down Dean’s thigh and every drag of his hand increases the heat at the base of Dean’s spine. There’s so much to the moment, Dean can't concentrate on any one thing. First it’s the way Cas squeezes Dean’s hip, his thumb digging in. Then his attention darts to the way their feet tangle together in the sheets. The slide of Cas’ lips and the heat of his mouth drag Dean all the way down, and he melts under Cas’ attention. 

Cas pushes a hand through his hair and tugs, the sensation sending heat down his body. Everything is heightened and hotter and better, more real and Dean wants, he craves the way Cas makes him feel. 

“Dean,” Cas breaks them apart with a ragged breath. “I like you, Dean, I like you so much and the way you make me feel, I’ve never—it’s not something I’ve ever been allowed to have and—” Cas’ voice breaks and Dean kisses him because this is Cas, wide open and Dean wants all of him, all the time. 

“Cas, Cas,” Dean whispers against Cas’ lips. “I’m so far gone on you, babe, you make me so happy.” Cas huffs out a laugh and nods. “You’re so good to me, so good.” 

Cas whines in his throat and Dean swallows it, kissing Cas deep; Cas’ pleasure makes his stomach flip, a knot forming in Dean’s throat. His skin itches for Cas. 

“Dean, at the risk of sounding trite—” Cas clears this throat and pulls back far enough to look Dean in the eyes. He cups Dean’s cheek and his palm is warm against Dean’s skin. Dean leans into it and Cas’ eyes soften. “Would you like to be my boyfriend?” 

Dean stares into Cas’ eyes; they flick back and forth over Dean’s face. He’s come to be so important to Dean, to his day-to-day life, and potentially to his future, if Dean has any say. 

“How come you keep beatin’ me to the punch, Cas?” Dean asks and presses his lips to Cas’, hoping his answer is clear. “Yes,” Dean kisses him again. “Please, Cas,” he says with a whisper, just in case he wasn’t. 

A smile spreads across Cas’ face and Dean’s face reacts as it always does, by lighting up. Cas is pecking sweet kisses across Dean’s face and Dean purses his lips and rolls his head around. He likes to make Cas work for it. Little slips of laughter are coming from Cas and he buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. 

Dean settles back into the pillow, one arm around Cas to pull him tighter. Cas is sucking lightly on his neck when Dean taps him on the head. 

“Boyfriend,” Dean says, getting a strangled squeak in response that makes him grin. “Paint it for me.”  Dean can’t stop staring up at all the scarves and the lights and the colors and he wants to hear Cas paint it for him. 

Cas rolls his head back and squints at Dean. 

“Tell me what colors you’d use to paint this,” Dean nods up at the lights above them and Cas’ eyes widen. He’s nodding and kissing Dean at the same time and Dean can feel the happiness radiating off of him. His boyfriend. 

_ Fuck, Dean likes the sound of that.  _

_ Cas is his boyfriend. _

The smile on Dean’s face doesn’t budge as he drifts off to the sound of Cas’ voice, slow and rolling against his skin as Cas talks about the things he loves in the shades he sees and Dean’s realizing he’s never gonna be able to let Cas go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [broken](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qr1-WpWOUk8) \- lovelytheband
> 
> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	12. Chapter 12

When Dean wakes the next morning still wrapped in Cas’—his _boyfriends—_ arms, Dean is happier than he can ever remember being. Even when it was good with anyone else, it was nowhere near as awesome as it feels to be with Cas.

It's like Cas knows he's awake and his arm tightens around Dean’s middle. Cas trails soft, fluttering kisses along Dean's bare back and shoulders.

Dean opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is the honey bee inside Cas’ wrist, Cas’ arm tucked under his neck. Dean presses a kiss to the ink and appreciates his nickname even more.

“Cas, tell me about your bee.” He strokes his thumb over the art.

Cas stiffens and Dean waits him out. He keeps moving his thumb against Cas’ pulse point, over and over and Cas breathes hot against Dean’s neck.

Cas presses a kiss there and takes a deep breath. “In another life, I would have been a beekeeper. My uncle, he had a farm in North Dakota and he was an avid apiarist.” Every time Cas pauses, he kisses Dean’s neck, sometimes letting his lips linger longer than usual. Dean squeezes his hand.

“He was the first of us. The Novak Family Black Sheep. Could have been a great band name in the 70s.” He huffs out a sarcastic laugh. “Cain was my mom’s older brother and there could not have been two more opposite people on this planet, Dean.”

Dean needs to look at Cas. He sounds like he’s struggling and Dean just wants to kiss him but stops when Cas tightens his hold on Dean’s hip, stopping him.

“I just—let me get this out first, please,” Cas asks.

“Course, Cas,” Dean kisses Cas’ knuckles, his only way to soothe him.

“Thank you,” another kiss. “As I was saying, Mom and Uncle Cain did not get along and he fucked off to Missouri which my mother used as an opportunity for punishment whenever I, ‘acted out’”. Cas manages air quotes in their awkward position and Dean raises his eyebrows. “She would send me there for the summer and I don’t know what she was thinking because those summers were the best of my fucking life, Dean. God,” Cas’ voice shakes. “They were perfect. I learned so much about bees, about art, about fucking _life._ ”

Cas sounds wrecked and it’s tearing a hole in Dean’s heart. Feels like it, anyway.

“He died when I was sixteen. I—my mom sent me up to the farm to clean it out, destroy the hives. I couldn’t do it, no fucking way. My uncle had a close friend who helped him with the bees and Cain would split the money he made from their honey with him. Crowley was a businessman at heart, retired to live in the country or something. He was weird. But he paid me for Cain’s half of the business for the next ten years.” Cas swallows noisily. “I opened my first bank account and never told a soul about the money. I had no idea it would help save my life a few years later.”

That’s it, Dean can’t do this without looking at Cas for another second. He fidgets and Cas sniffs into his back and loosens his hold so Dean can roll over and wrap him in his arms. Cas has his face burrowed into Dean’s chest in seconds.

They lie together, Dean sweeping his hand across Cas’ back every now and again. Cas turns his head to press his cheek to Dean’s chest. “When I was cleaning out his place, I found his journals. Stacks of them, Dean. They’re out on my bookshelf. His life was quite fascinating, you might enjoy going through them.”  Cas’ tone has evened out and he props his head up by his fist to look at Dean. His eyes are red rimmed.

“Reading those is how I found out he was bisexual. Years after Vietnam, he married my aunt Collette but in his journals he wrote of a man he loved during the war. He was killed.” Cas sighs. The light is leaking out of his eyes and it’s killing Dean. “Collette got sick and then she died and in his grief, Cain came out to my mother. It destroyed whatever relationship they may have had left.”  

_Oh, fuck. Fuck._

Cas’ nod is tight. “You would have liked him, Dean. I think he would have got a kick out of you, another grunt like him.” Cas’ gaze turns fond. “I got this tattoo on his birthday last year. He would have been sixty.” He presses a kiss to Dean’s lips and Dean pulls him close. “So, bees are very important to me.”

“Thank you for telling me about him,” Dean says into the curve of Cas’ neck. “I’d love to check out his journals, dude sounds like a badass bisexual as I pride _myself_ of, as well.” Cas huffs a wet laugh into Dean’s shoulder and nods his head. Dean’s thrilled to make him smile again.

“And I’m sorry,” Dean says and tips up Cas’ chin. “Whatever happened to you... After.” The pain in Cas’ eyes makes his chest hurt. “You don’t have to tell me, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Dean kisses Cas then, kisses him and kisses him, presses his lips to the tears that slip down his cheeks and curses the people in Cas’ life that let him down.

Curses the ones that let him and Sam down, too while he's at it.

Cas pulls away with an embarrassed laugh. “Bet you’re regretting that whole boyfriend thing now.”

“Hell no, you’re not getting rid of me that easy Cas, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, man.” Dean pulls the blanket up to their necks and Cas’ hands wander.

“I don’t want to get rid of you, Dean,” Cas mutters as he slides under the blankets. His next word is muffled but Dean thinks he might’ve said _never_ and he hopes that’s what he heard more than just about anything.

***

Sam didn’t think Sarah was ready for the staff at Fable as much as Dean knew he wanted to go back. Dean had to agree, he wasn’t sure dick jokes and sexual innuendo made great first impressions.

Cas is at his house the night before their _double date,_ listening while the brothers argue over the phone. First it was about location; should Sam and Sarah come into the city or did Dean and Cas want to come down to campus? Then it was what kind of food; Sam wanted seafood and Dean wanted pizza—no, burgers—wait, pizza; he was right the first time.

Dean paces and Cas’ eyes track him from the couch. He’s stretched out, sketchpad and pencil in hand as Dean argues with his little brother.

They’re back to location when Dean notices Cas weaving around him, stepping out of the way when Dean turns on his heel. Cas’ palm slides across Dean’s back before he sits down again, beers in hand and that’s when Dean stops and realizes he’s wasting a perfectly good night _not_ kissing his boyfriend so he’s gotta get off the phone.

“Sammy, we gotta wrap this up,” he says as he eyes Cas, swiping around on his phone. He watches him for a second, enjoying the slope of his nose and ignoring his brother when Cas interrupts him and looks up. He holds his phone up to Dean and Dean squints at it.

It’s their Google doc with all their date ideas. Cas—the nerd—organized it by area and yeah, they have a Stanford/Palo Alto List.

_Cas is the greatest thing to ever happen to Dean._

“Hey,” he barks out over Sam, still talking. Dean has no idea what he’s talking about, something about sold out Zipcar rentals blah, blah. “Sammy, we’re coming to you. Be there around eleven but we’ll text you when we leave.”

He hangs up and Sam is _still_ talking. Dean’s gonna hear about that tomorrow.

He tosses his phone on the table and drops onto the couch next to Cas. He’s still sketching and Dean takes a peek.

Dean’s cheeks burn and his stomach flips.

Cas has drawn him again, this time Dean is in the living room, pacing, his phone to his ear and a hand on top of his head. He’s laughing, and his face looks like it’s filled with light, and peace.

“You look happy even when you argue with Sam,” Cas says, his tone easy. He runs the pad of his fingertip over the edge of the paper.

This is how Cas sees him and Dean isn’t worthy. He swallows that thought back and lets his eyes drift over the drawing again. “I really love it Cas, but, just one thing,” Dean hesitates before he taps on himself on the page. “Where’s my shirt?” The drawing is wearing exactly the same pants as Dean, he’s even barefoot like Dean but the only thing missing is the old Mystery Spot t-shirt he’s wearing.

Cas shrugs and drags his finger over the cartoon Dean’s bare chest. “Artist’s choice.”

“Perv,” Dean whispers and Cas nods as he climbs into Dean’s lap with a laugh. “Remind me to show you the R Rated sketchbooks.” Now it’s Dean’s turn to nod and he slips his hands around to Cas’ ass and squeezes before lifting his chin to accept Cas’ kiss.

Mouths cold from their beers turn hot the longer they kiss and Dean lets himself get lost in it.

Mornings always come too fast when Cas sleeps over and the next day they’re stopping for coffee at Weavers before jumping on the 101, Dean opting for the highway that keeps them as close to the coast as possible. Cas holds his hand the whole way there and talks to Dean about a few books he’s reading.

Driving in his Baby, windows open, the salty smell of the ocean, and Cas, _Cas,_ all of him here, making every one of Dean’s days better—it’s too good to be true.

Cas guides them to the restaurant Sam picked out and Dean’s happy when they pull up to a cute little Italian joint, Blue Line Pizza. Sam and Sarah already have a table out front and they both stand as Dean and Cas approach.

Sarah is stunning. Long, dark hair frames her face and she’s wearing a red sundress that compliments her. His little brother got himself a looker, totally out of Sam’s league, Dean can tell right off. Sammy did good.

Dean raises an eyebrow and shoots a quick smirk at Sam who’s quickly turning the color of Sarah’s dress.

“Hey, guys,” Sam stammers out, awkwardly trying to shake Dean’s hand and also hug him and holy shit his baby brother is _flustered._ This is the greatest day of Dean’s life. Mr. Calm, Cool and Collected, Mr. I Don’t Need to Stress About Law School is _nervous._

_And it’s not even Dean’s birthday._

Dean beams at them and hugs his brother before Sam does anything else weird. “Sammy, you said Sarah was gorgeous and you weren’t lyin’!” He slaps Sam on the shoulder before extending his hand to Sarah who’s smiling wide at them.

She shakes his hand and her grip is firm. “Dean. It’s so good to finally meet you, Sam talks about you all the time.”

“Don’t believe any of it,” he jokes. “This is Cas,” Dean beams as they shake hands. He leans towards them like wants to let them in on a secret. “He’s my boyfriend.” He bounces his eyebrows.

_Ok, that felt awesome to say._

Dean wonders who else he can tell. He’ll text Charlie after lunch.

He drags out Cas’ chair for him before he takes his own seat. Sam is shooting the most subtle daggers at him and it’s the greatest. Dean can say pretty much anything right now and Sam can’t go into dramatics about it because he doesn’t want to be a weirdo in front of his new girlfriend. Dean knows he’s freaking about the boyfriend thing, probably pissed Dean didn’t tell him.

Cas clears his throat and smiles at Sarah. “It’s great to finally meet you, Sarah. Sam tells us you’re an art history major?”

_His boyfriend is so good at this._

She nods. “And he tells me you're an artist?”

Cas looks at Dean and fucking beams and Dean's thankful he's wearing his sunglasses still.

_Shit, maybe Cas wasn't lying about the marriage thing._

Cas and Sarah launch into a discussion about 18th century art or something and while Dean's ordering them a round of beer, Sam is kicking him in the shins.

Their waitress leaves and Dean glares at Sam. “You're the worst, you know that. Be cool in front of your girl,” Dean scolds him, still trying to avoid the indignation.

Sam breaks him with a segue into his puppy dog eyes.

“It was barely a few days ago,” Dean hisses under his breath. Cas’ hand slips into Dean's but he doesn't stop talking or miss a beat. “We just came up for air.”

Cas squeezes his hand.

“Gross, Dean,” Sam hisses back, his face pinched.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Thankfully their pizza comes and Cas dishes out plates to Sarah and Sam first before passing Dean his. “Here you go, boyfriend,” he whispers in Dean's ear before he lets go of the plate. Dean wants to hear that again.

_Preferably when he makes Cas—_

He clamps down on boner inducing thoughts while his brother sits across from him and gives Cas a quick peck instead.

“You guys are so sweet, seriously Sam, who needs dessert later?” Sarah’s voice is dancing with laughter. Heat rises in Dean's cheeks and he realizes they were kinda doing the staring thing they do that drives everyone crazy. Sam said he clocked them at four minutes twenty-six seconds once but Dean's pretty sure he's full of shit.

“How’s the pizza?” He clears his throat. “Come on, lets eat before it gets cold.” Dean takes an exaggerated bite to encourage everyone to eat too. Anything to get them to stop looking at them.

It works, thank God. Cas presses his shoulder into Dean's while they eat and it helps him relax and enjoy lunch.

Sarah is awesome. She's funny and she teases Sam and makes him laugh, and she's really fuckin’ smart. She’ll keep Sam on his toes, that’s for sure. Dean can't imagine a better partner for his brother. And his boyfriend has a big ole crush on her and Dean thinks that's adorable.

Halfway through their pizza, Sarah puts her napkin on the table and clears her throat. Sam wraps an arm around her shoulders and gives her a slight squeeze. She looks a little nervous and Dean wonders what the hell's going on.

He shoots a worried look at Cas and they put their slices down.

“I just wanted to say again how happy I am to meet you both. Sam talks so highly of you two and I can see why.” She smiles.

 _Sam speaks highly of_ **_them_ ** _?_

 _“_ So on that note, I know—believe me, I know—that vacationing with family can be a terrible idea but my parents have a house in Tahoe that barely gets used, and I thought maybe you guys would like to join us for a few days?”

She plays with her long hair, twisting it around her finger. “The house is big, plenty of space for us to hang out but not feel crowded. And my dad has a boat and a private dock,” she raises her eyebrows and looks hopeful. Sam does too.

“Sarah,” Dean holds up a hand. “You had us at vacationing.”

They've been talking about a trip, actually. Cas wants to draw and Dean wants to take pictures. Basically what they do now, but outside their own backyard, so to speak.

“When were you thinking of going?” Cas asks.

“Third week of July, maybe? We'll be done with school by then and ready to unwind,” Sam answers.

Plenty of time for Dean to request off. Cas is looking at his calendar on his phone because he has some deadlines for the next book coming up, and Dean hopes they don't conflict.

Thankfully, Cas is smiling. “That would actually be a perfect time,” he turns to Dean. “We submit the final draft the week before. Can you get the time off?”

Dean holds up his beer. “Guess we're goin’ to the lake.”

The four of them spend the rest of lunch and a few hours after talking about their trip, menu planning with Dean claiming one night to make his hamburgers; Cas’ favorite. The more they talk about it, the more excited Dean gets and even after Sam and Sarah have to go, he talks to Cas about things _they_ can do and things they might want to see.

They drive home along the coast and Cas is already working on his shared documents, Dean's phone vibrating in his pocket from the notifications he’s receiving. He's writing down all their ideas and also the grocery list Dean is telling him as things come to mind. Like remembering he needs Sriracha and then five miles later, yelling out, “Cinnamon Toast Crunch!” Cas just switches documents and adds to the list and Dean wants to pull the car over to kiss him senseless.

But then he thinks about getting back to the city and kissing Cas in his bed and he pushes the gas pedal down a little harder.

***

Dean collapses on the wood floor of the dance studio, the last notes of Columbian hip hop fading from the speakers. Charlie sits down laughing and breathing hard as Dean digs his water bottle and towel out of his bag.

“Fuck, Charlie, I almost forgot how hard these classes are,” Dean’s out of breath.

Fucking Zumba. First time Charlie mentioned him joining her, Dean was a solid nope. That was also the first (and last) time Dean learned that if your best friend is Charlie Bradbury, _no_ is not in her repertoire.

He was taking his first class a week later. And he fucking liked it. But Dean’s not an idiot, he negotiated his continued attendance with the promise that Charlie never, _ever_ tell Sam. So far, so good because if he knew, Sam would have definitely used it against Dean at some point already.

“That’s what happens when you stay home and use sex as your cardio instead of actual fitness,” Charlie teases, knocking their shoulders together.

Dean huffs. “Shut up,” he mutters. “You jealous, Bradbury?”

Charlie flushes and her cheeks get even pinker than they were after their workout.

“Charles Hermione Bradbury, do you have something to tell me?”

She hides her face behind her hair as they stand to leave. Dean holds his hand out to help her up and she takes it, bouncing to her feet.

Dean zips the sleeveless hoodie he’s wearing halfway up, catching his reflexion in the floor to ceiling mirrors. He wasn’t gonna buy it because, sleeveless hoodie, but Charlie insisted he try it on and look—the studio was having a 30% off sale and Dean looks fucking good in the damn thing. So, he bought it. It’s black and has a little purple Zumba symbol on the chest and it makes his arms look good after a class. Dean almost considers telling Cas his dirty little secret just so Cas can see him in his workout clothes.

“Ok Princess, you’re very pretty.” Charlie rolls her eyes at him and hooks their arms together to drag him outside. “I’ll spill the beans if you buy me waffles.” She pushes open the door of the studio and the sun is bright when they step outside.

_Fuck yeah, waffles._

“You got yourself a deal there, Red,” Dean says as he digs into his bag for his sunglasses, not noticing the person he’s crashing into until it’s happening and strong, _familiar_ hands are wrapping around his hips and then it seems like Dean’s getting his wish.

“Dean?”

He looks up into the astonished blue eyes of his boyfriend. They’re flicking between Dean’s face and the Zumba studio he just came out of and then a slow smile grows as Cas takes the rest of him in. One of Cas’ hands slides up his arm, curving over his bare bicep and curling to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Cas’ grin is turning wicked. “Hello.”

His yoga mat is strapped to his back and Dean remembers Cas texting him this morning about yoga with Alicia. He had no idea they weren’t going to Cas’ normal studio which is a few blocks away.

“Zumba, Dean?” Cas is enjoying this far, far too much.

Dean levels his gaze at the excited man whose hands are now sliding around to grab his ass. “Damn right, Cas,” he says with as much pride as he can. He hooks a hand around Cas’ neck and drags him in for a slow kiss.

They break apart laughing when Charlie and Alicia start catcalling them. Cas gives him one more sweet peck. “See you later, Officer.” He hooks arms with Alicia and they walk away, getting half a block before Cas looks back over his shoulder to catch Dean still watching him. Dean grins and raises his hand before Cas turns back but not before winking at him.

“Waffles,” Charlie whines, snapping Dean out of his reverie. She’s tucking her phone back in her pocket and his is vibrating with a text from her.

The picture message is of him and Cas, wrapped around each other on the sidewalk. Cas is in his yoga clothes, tight all over, his feet in sandals. Dean’s wearing his own loose-fitting shorts and flip flops he changed into after class and shit, they’re hot. They’re hot together and Charlie nods like she can read his mind.

He sends the picture to Cas and sets it as his lock screen.

“Think I saw a porn that started that way, once,” Charlie teases and Dean flushes and grabs her by the hand so they can go get her some damn waffles.

Once they’re sitting outside, cups of coffee in front of them, does Charlie share her news.

“I met someone.”

_Obviously._

“She’s gorgeous, Dean, she’s a wiccan.” She’s blushing again. “She runs her own shop and I needed some new oils. That’s how we met.” Charlie’s into new age health stuff, essential oils and all that. Dean’s actually surprised she hasn’t gone off to yoga with Cas yet.

“Wiccan? Like a witch?” Dean wrinkles his nose.

“No, you dork!” Charlie considers it again. “Well, not really. Not the way you’re thinking.”

Their food comes and Dean digs in so Charlie can talk. “It’s more worship the earth and pray to the moon, less dark spells and sacrifices.” She leans over to pull a paper bag out of her purse. “That reminds me.”

She tosses it towards his plate and it clunks on the table. “It’s Aquamarine. For your trip. Promotes safe travel.” She starts to eat. “It will also boost your immunity and bust up any creative blocks. Just charge it in the sun every couple of days.”

Charlie and her rocks. She’s always slipping him new ones for different reasons. She swears up and down he should thank the Rose Quartz she slipped in his desk the week he met Cas for giving him a little balance to his heart chakra.

_Whatever the hell that means._

Dean loves her for it. He looks inside the bag at the light blue stone and smiles before he tucks it into his bag. “Thanks, Red.” His phone vibrates in his pocket and Dean digs it out. “So, what’s her name? If you say Glinda, so help me—”  

Charlie laughs. “Dude! Close. It’s Gilda.” She gets this adorable gleam in her eye and Dean grins, wondering if he looks like this when he talks about Cas. Probably. “She’s so pretty, Dean, like—delicate. Is that a weird way to describe someone? She’s reminds me of a fairy.”

Dean puts his chin in his hands and sighs, giving Charlie the best heart eyes he can. She notices and rolls her eyes. “Stop that.”

“What, it's adorable,” he simpers before he sits up straight and drops the act, shoving a bite of whipped cream covered waffle in his mouth. He jabs his fork at her. “You’re sprung, Queenie.”

Charlie shakes her head and chews thoughtfully.

Dean remembers his phone, abandoned next to his plate after Dean had to swoon over his best friend. He picks it up to see a message from Cas.

**> >I think I’d like to see you sooner rather than later today, Dean. And I’d like for you to be wearing that outfit still.**

_Holy shit._

His cheeks heat up and he slides his phone back in his pocket but after a moment he groans.

“What?” Charlie asks. “He really liked the picture, huh.” Her eyes shine with laughter.

“He’s gonna make me dance for him Charlie, I know it.”

It takes forever for her to reply because Charlie can’t stop laughing.

Dean rolls his eyes, but he’s secretly looking forward to whatever Cas might have in mind for them later. And fuck yeah, he’ll shake his ass if Cas asks him to.

When she finally calms down, even though it wasn’t _that_ funny, she asks him a question he’d been hoping to avoid.

“So,” she drops her voice. “Have you guys had _s-e-x_ yet?”

Dean made the mistake of confiding in her during one drunken night out. He’d only been seeing Cas for a few weeks and at the time, they had barely gotten to hand jobs. He wasn’t frustrated, per se, just wondering if maybe Cas might not want to fuck him and he just didn’t know how to tell Dean. Charlie had punched him in the arm for thinking it. Dean blames the vodka they were drinking.

The next morning, Cas brought him some corned beef hash covered with hot sauce that Balthazar cooked up, promising it to be the perfect hangover cure and proceeded to smoke him out and keep him hydrated until he felt better. Dean also found out that Cas considers blow jobs a good hangover cure too and he realized that everything he and Cas have going is at a perfect pace. Dean doesn’t think there’s any point in hurrying if you’re planning on spending a long time with the other person.

He shakes his head no and her eyes widen. “Dean, it’s been like, what, four months?”

“ _Almost_ four.” Dean clarifies. “And it’s fine. Really.”

Charlie looks doubtful.

“I’m serious,” Dean insists. “At first, I thought it was weird but with Cas, it’s different.”

They’re done eating and Dean throws a few twenties on the table and they start to walk back to his place. Charlie links their arms and rests her head on his shoulder while they walk.

“After we had that conversation about it, he came over the next day and basically nursed me through my hangover and it was so… _nice._ ” He sighs. “I’ve never had that kind of relationship before. Plus there’s no pressure, you know?”

That’s been a bonus he wasn’t expecting. Cas is huge on consent, something they have in common and Cas isn’t shy about asking Dean what he wants and making sure he’s comfortable. It’s nice not to be the only one who cares about that sort of thing, for once. With sex off the table, the slow build to it has been nothing but enjoyable.

Charlie raises her eyes at him. “Do you love him, Dean?”

Dean’s pretty sure the answer to that is a solid yes but if he’s gonna say it out loud for the first time, it’s gonna be to Cas and no one else.

Dean smiles, and Charlie lays her head back on his shoulder, content with his answer.

They walk a few more blocks, enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company before Charlie speaks again. “Have you talked about it?”

“Yeah, we have; we _do._ We both agreed to go get tested,” he clears his throat. “Full on tested like—blood, not just urine. My appointment is next week.” Dean needs his annual physical, anyway. “When the results come back, I kinda want to make it special, you know?”

“You guys are seriously my OTP,” Charlie sighs. “Tahoe?”

Dean’s thought about that. A lot. At length. In detail.

“Maybe, if the results are back by then.” Dean says. “You don’t think that’s weird?”

“Why, you said the house was big and your room was on the other side of the house from Sam’s.”

“Yeah, Sam said we were gross, so he wants to be as far apart as possible.”

“You are,” Charlie agrees. “You almost had sex on the sidewalk this morning.” She’s laughing again.

“Get to the point,” Dean growls.

“My point is, Dean, you can make it special. Tell Sam you guys should do a ‘date night’ or something and have a night to yourselves.” She hums, considering. “Suggest they go hit the casinos, buy them a room or something and then, you know, sex him up.”

_God, this conversation._

It’s not a bad idea though. Sammy might be game if Dean was as generic as possible. If he told him it was because he wanted to fuck his boyfriend for the first time, he might not be that amenable.

They’re back at Dean’s and he invites her up for coffee but she declines, pointing at the Lyft sitting at the curb.

“I’m meeting Gilda in a few hours so I gotta get home and shower,” she kisses Dean on the cheek. “Think about what I said, Handmaiden.”

He nods and waves as her car leaves.

All he wants is to make Cas happy, return all the goodness he’s brought into Dean’s life. Dean’s worried about fucking that up or worse, making Cas feel pressured into something he isn’t ready to do. He’ll talk to Cas about it, Cas makes everything easier and this is a decision they have to make together.

He pushes into his building and fuck, Cas is here already. He’s sitting on Dean’s stairs, stretched out, long legs splayed across three steps as he leans back on his elbows. Cas looks Dean up and down without hesitation and smirks at him.

“Hello, Officer.”

Dean hitches his bag up his shoulder and pockets his keys, taking three big steps across the threshold and up the stairs to get to Cas. Dean gets his hands on Cas as quick as he can, pushing his shirt up and pressing wet, open mouth kisses to his stomach and hips. Cas’ skin tastes like clean sweat and Dean drags his nose over it, breathing in smoke and incense from the yoga studio. It tastes heavy on his tongue and Dean wants more.

He presses the line of his body against Cas’ and licks into his mouth, chasing after the _more_ he was looking for. Cas wraps a leg around Dean’s hip and thrusts up and it’s clear that not wanting to fuck Dean isn’t and never was a problem. As much as Dean thinks about having Cas inside him, he knows Cas is worth the wait and then some. The heat between them now is proof of what’s to come.

He laughs when Cas wraps his legs around Dean and Dean holds him when he stands to go up the stairs.

“Did you see us, Dean? We looked so hot in that picture.” Cas kisses Dean’s neck. It feels so fucking good, he can’t stop grinning and he almost drops Cas at the next thing he says.

“I swear, I’ve seen a porn that started like that.”

Later, when Cas is naked, other than Dean’s sleeveless hoodie, unzipped and showing off his hot bod, he’s dancing to moves he demanded Dean show him, queuing up a Zumba playlist he found online. Dean lies on his stomach and watches Cas roll his hips, only pausing to take another hit off his pipe before he passes it back to Dean. He smokes but bursts out laughing when Cas stumbles as he squints at the YouTube video playing a Zumba class, his glasses askew as he glares at the screen like it personally insulted him.

“These instructions are not consistent, Dean,” Cas complains as he continues glaring.

He’s adorable and the moment is perfect and if Dean had one wish, he would be happy with a forever filled with this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
> 

Dean snaps his last case file shut and puts it in his out box. He’s worked overtime almost all week, so he’s not leaving anything open on his desk to worry about while they’re on vacation. Cas has been working just as much and they haven’t seen each other all week, except for a few morning coffee dates and some mutual hand jobs one morning in Cas’ office. Lucky for them, Gabriel sleeps late. 

Dean’s ready for a week in the sun with Cas. It’s a four-hour drive from the city and Sam and Sarah are already in Tahoe, opening the house and getting it ready. 

He gets a few last-minute things at Target and stops by the liquor store before he heads to Cas’. Dean’s going to pick him up and they’ll grab dinner before sleeping at Dean’s so they can get an early start. Dean wants to be in Tahoe around noon if they can manage it. 

The Impala pulls up to Cas’ and Dean hops out, pushing inside the building and heading straight for Cas’ office. He stops short at the sight of Cas’ empty drawing table. And Gabriel’s occupied one. 

Cas wasn’t sure if his brother would still be around by the time Dean arrived but it seems like they have their answer. 

_ Thanks for the heads up, babe. _

“Hey, Dean-o, where’s the rest of the Village People?” 

Gay cop jokes. Dean’s favorite. 

He rolls his eyes. “Very cute Gabriel, where’s Cas? Did you guys finish up okay?”  

Gabriel steps around and leans on his drawing table. “Cassie’ll be right down and yeah,” he quirks his eyebrows. “We got it done a couple hours ago. Cas’ been in and out and up and down getting ready since.” 

Dean nods and gives Gabriel a tight smile. Something about the guy is unsettling and it pisses Dean off because no matter what Dean does, no matter how nice he is to him, Gabriel just doesn’t seem to want to come around. Cas gets all fluttery about it which makes Dean try that much harder which just makes Gabriel dig in that much deeper. 

They’re not doing great at this, the three of them and Dean wishes he could figure out why.

He looks around their shared office as if the answers might be drawn into the art that surrounds them. It’s a mix of both their styles; Gabriel’s heavy lines and the splotchy expressions of color that scream Cas back at Dean, the part that makes it all come alive. 

The brother’s two desks face each other in the middle of the room, three rolling whiteboards next to them. The boards are covered in notes and timelines and crude sketches and it’s fucking fascinating to see their process and the way their books come together. Dean’s gotta talk to Cas about getting Sam and Charlie in here. Their nerdy little hearts would burst. 

Dean fidgets, pulling at the collar of his uniform. He figured they’d be in and out and he was in a hurry to see Cas so he didn’t bother changing after his shift and he’s regretting that now. Gabriel steps towards him, his look turning calculating. Dean also regrets not taking out his phone and texting Cas the minute he got here and Cas wasn’t sitting at his desk.

He unbuttons his top two buttons hoping for some air and Gabriel smirks. “Relax Dean, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Gabriel puts up his hands, like Dean has nothing to worry about. Yeah, right. Dean can smell a big brother talk a mile away. Maybe this will help settle the air between them, at least. 

“It’s cool man, I'm a big brother too. I know this speech by heart.” Dean grins back at him, nice and cool. “Come on, let’s hear it.” 

Gabriel’s face turns hard. “Oh bucko, I don’t think you have any  _ idea _ what my speech is about.” He points a finger at Dean. “Don’t assume anything about me, or my family because that would be your first mistake.” Gabriel’s dead serious now and standing impossibly close to Dean. 

He drops his voice. “My little brother has been through some dark shit, Dean, the stuff nightmares are made of, understand?” Dean clenches his jaw, rage blossoming in his stomach, not at the man confirming the things in Dean’s head but at the monster’s in Cas’ past that put him through hell. He nods to prove to Gabriel that he’s listening. 

“Mommy dearest could barely deal with a bisexual son,” he waves sarcastically. “Let alone a full gay,” he jerks his head towards the floors above them, where Cas is no doubt happily getting ready for their trip. Dean swallows back the bile rising in his throat. 

“She believed our sexuality was something she could ‘fix,’” Gabriel continues. “I got out in time but Cas wasn’t so lucky,” the bluster has left his voice and his shoulders sag in the slightest way for the briefest of moments before he snaps his mask back into place. 

“My baby bro, he really likes you and that hasn’t happened for a while so, be good to him.” He turns back to his desk with a shrug. “And if you aren’t, they won’t be able to find your body.” 

_ Did this guy just threaten an actual cop? _

“Gabriel, that’s enough.” 

Cas’ deep voice bounces off the walls and Dean feels his shoulders loosen when Cas slips his hand into Dean’s. He didn’t even realize he was that tense until he wasn’t. Dean gives his head a little shake to clear it. 

Gabriel whirls around at the sound of Cas’ voice, a placating smile on his face. “Aw, Cassie, it’s all good, me and Dean here are finally starting to understand each other, aren’t we?” 

Dean wraps an arm around Cas and shoots Gabriel a finger gun. “Sure are,  _ Gabe. _ ” 

The only reaction Dean gets is a slight bounce of Gabriel’s eyebrows before he turns back to his desk. “You kids have fun now, try not to get too stoned and drown in the lake.” 

“Dean, can you excuse us for a moment?” Cas looks murderous and the less Dean witnesses of a crime, the better. 

“No homicide before vacation, babe. Too much paperwork.” He dips his head to kiss Cas before he steps out. Cas squeezes his hand and Dean closes the door behind him. Cas barely waits long enough for that before he’s ripping into Gabriel. 

Dean gathers the bags Cas left at the foot of the stairs and jams for the Impala, not at all interested in overhearing their fight. Gabriel already crossed too many lines for Dean’s comfort tonight. It’s not as if Dean doesn’t want to know, he  _ really _ does but he wants to hear it from Cas, when Cas is ready to tell him. It’s not Gabriel’s place to decide that for him. 

He leans against the side of the Impala and flinches a little when he hears the inner door slam, Cas throwing the front door open a moment later. His eyes are full of fire and his shoulders heave but when he catches sight of Dean waiting for him, the fight seems to drain out of him. Dean steps forward to pull Cas to his chest and Cas goes willingly. 

“I’m sorry, Dean, I—”  

“Cas, no, it’s fine.” They can’t talk about this here. Dean wants to get them back to his place as soon as possible. “Come on, let's go get a pizza.” He tips Cas’ chin up. “We can talk about it later.” 

“Pizza sounds great, Dean,” relief fills Cas’ eyes. “Can we get pineapple?” 

Dean turns them towards the car, his arm not leaving Cas’ shoulders while he opens the door for him. “We’ve talked about this, Cas.” 

“Half, then,” Cas pleads his case when Dean gets in the drivers side. 

“It’s unnatural,” Dean huffs but smiles, because they both know he’s going to concede either way. “But fine. You can’t have any of my jalapenos though.” Cas squeaks out a protest. “Sorry sunshine, them's the breaks,” Dean teases.

Cas is smiling again and Dean considers getting the whole pizza covered in pineapple, as long as it keeps the smile on Cas’ face. 

They end up going half and half anyway and sharing the whole pie. Dean is big enough to admit that the pineapple isn’t  _ that _ bad but should still be kept off pizza to play it safe. Cas tells him that makes no sense but Dean stands by it. 

“Do you need anything from the car?” Dean asks before they head inside for the night. 

Cas shakes his head. “I’ve got everything I need upstairs. You can leave my bags.” 

Dean nods and follows Cas up with a smile. Dean knows Cas has a tendency to leave things behind when he stays over but he didn’t know he’d left enough to sustain him overnight. It makes him really happy and Cas returns his smile at the top of the stairs as if he’s realizing it too. He takes Dean by the hand once they’re inside to pull him into the bedroom. 

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you how much I love you in uniform, Officer,” Cas mutters under his breath, his hands drifting over Dean’s shoulders to trail down his arms. “I think I’d break the law just so you had an excuse to frisk me.” 

Dean laughs and Cas unbuttons his shirt to reveal Dean’s black undershirt. “And you said you could charm your way out of a ticket.” 

Cas pushes Dean’s uniform shirt off his shoulders and it falls to the floor with a whoosh of fabric. Cas tugs Dean’s undershirt off next.

“Does that include getting on my knees for you?” Cas runs his hands down Dean’s chest and sinks down until his knees touch the ground. He doesn’t break eye contact with Dean the whole way down and Dean forgets how to breathe in and out, stuttering over his own breath as blue eyes burn a hole through him. 

Dean slides his hand into Cas’ hair and Cas’ eyes flutter shut for a moment before opening again with intent, Cas’ sole purpose focused on getting Dean out of the rest of his clothes. Cas tugs at his belt and pulls down his zipper, letting Dean’s pants slip down his legs on their own volition, Cas too preoccupied at Dean standing in front of him in his boxer briefs. 

He wraps his hands around Dean’s legs, helping him step out of his pants, Cas’ hands sliding down and back up to his ass. Cas noses along Dean’s length, smiling when he feels how hard Dean’s gotten for him. 

“I guess it’s working, then,” Cas says as he peels Dean’s underwear down, Dean’s cock bobbing free, hanging heavy between them. He wraps long fingers around Dean’s length and Dean sucks in a sharp breath, the heat in his gut flaring. 

“Cas,” he whimpers, his voice broken. 

Cas sucks the head of Dean’s cock into his mouth, and Dean can feel the tip of his tongue curling and caressing and fuck, Dean can’t help it when his hips jerk in response, his dick sliding deeper into Cas’ mouth. He pulls it in willingly, a moan muffled in his throat. Dean can feel the rumble of it pulling at his groin and zipping up his spine. 

Teeth drag up Dean’s shaft as Cas pulls off to press wet kisses down Dean’s length before he flattens his tongue to lap at Dean’s balls. Cas’ mouth is so hot and he spends his time licking and sucking and driving Dean completely insane. 

His hand tightens in Cas’ hair and his boyfriend whimpers. Dean wants to pull Cas into the sheets, wants to feel his weight on top of him and he wants them to come together, wrapped around each other. 

Cas has other plans. 

He pushes Dean down on the bed, grabbing a pillow and putting it below his knees where he settles between Dean’s open legs. Cas spreads his legs wider and pulls Dean closer to the edge of the mattress by his thighs. 

“God, Dean you taste so good,” he says, hot breath ghosting over Dean’s pelvis as he drifts down. “Does this feel good?” Cas presses fluttering kisses on the inside of Dean’s thighs as he talks, his tongue snaking out to trace circles in Dean’s skin. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah, Cas,” Dean moans. “Your mouth…”

Pre-come drips from Dean’s now neglected dick. 

“I’m going to suck your cock now, Dean,” Cas tells him, as if he’s merely making conversation. “I want to hear you.” He drags his teeth across Dean’s balls and Dean cries out. 

“So then, we have an agreement,” Cas muses with a smile before he sucks Dean into his mouth with a wet slurp of his lips. His mouth—fuck, Dean’s burning up because Cas’ mouth is slippery and hot and engulfing Dean down to his root and Cas acts like it’s nothing. His cheeks hollow out and Dean thumbs at Cas’ lips stretched around him, pink and shiny. Cas’ eyes flick up to meet Dean’s gaze and they’re pleading. 

Dean nods and rubs his thumb over Cas’ cheek. “Your lips are so pretty, Cas, wrapped around me.” Cas’ eyes flutter shut and a low hum vibrates against the head of his cock as it nudges against the back of Cas’ throat. His hips twitch again and Cas chokes a little. Dean’s ready to pull out but Cas sucks harder, keeping Dean in his mouth and swallowing against his head and the noises his throat makes has Dean rolling his hips in want. 

“Cas, Cas, oh my god,” Dean grunts out. “You’re so good, so good to me. I wish you could see yourself with my cock down your throat, god, it’s gorgeous.” 

Cas groans louder and bobs his head faster, Dean’s cock brushing the back of his throat over and over. Dean can feel the slide under his thumb still resting on Cas’ cheek. “Yeah, Cas, you’re doing so well.” 

The heat in Dean’s belly rises. “You make me feel so good, Cas. No one’s ever—made me feel—” Dean stutters because Cas is sucking him, his lips catching the head of Dean’s dick as he pulls off to moan into Dean’s thigh and catch his breath. 

Dean runs his hands through Cas’ hair and down to his shoulders, kneading out the knots. 

“Dean,” Cas voice is wrecked, rough from Dean’s cock and holy fuck it makes him want to come. He thinks he might if Cas keeps talking. “I want you to—”  Cas sucks Dean back into his mouth like he can’t stand being without it. 

“Yeah, babe. Want me to come in your mouth, I know,” Dean reassures him. “You swallow me down so good, sweetheart.” 

He’s completely sure it’s what Cas wants because, much to Dean’s pleasure (often), his boyfriend loves to swallow. Dean knows Cas is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him and he can’t help himself from thinking about what it will be like when they fuck and then Dean’s there, he’s ready and Cas’ eyes are on him and he  _ knows. _

He hollows his cheeks and sucks all the way, swallowing around Dean and moaning in the back of his throat. Cas slides the hands that have been resting on Dean’s thighs up to his hips and he presses down, his grip tight, and the pressure has Dean coming down his throat, pulse after pulse and it turns Dean boneless, a puddle on the bed. Cas swallows it down, only a drop escaping from the side of his mouth when he pulls off Dean’s cock with a groan. 

Cas rises and crawls over Dean, catching his eye before he thumbs that errant drop of come back into his mouth.

_ Holy. Fucking. Shit. _

“You bastard,” Dean groans. “I still have to pack the car and I don’t think I can move again. Ever.” Dean’s sure he’s never gonna be able to walk again, actually. 

Cas kisses him, licking deep into Dean’s mouth and Dean can taste the salt of himself on Cas’ tongue that rolls against his. He presses his body down on top of Dean and they both hiss when their hips brush together. Dean lifts his head to peer between them.

“Did you come in your pants?” 

Cas laughs and rolls over him on the bed. “I love your filthy mouth, Dean. I couldn’t help it.” He stands and stretches before he strips his clothes off. If Cas hadn’t just sucked his fucking brains out of his dick, Dean would be interested in all that bronze skin. 

“Do you think you can manage getting your two bags into the Impala while I take a shower?” 

Must be a rhetorical question because Cas doesn’t wait for an answer before Dean hears the shower turn on. He lays there for a while, an arm thrown over his face. Dean knows a lot about his boyfriend. One of the first things he learned when they started seeing each other is that Cas is great at changing the subject. 

While Dean greatly—and seriously,  _ greatly _ —appreciates the blow job he just got, he knows that was Cas changing the subject on something that is deeply private to him. Something that his brother exploited in a way neither of them were expecting and the day before their first attempt at going away together, a huge thing in a new relationship. 

If Dean’s frustrated, Cas must be fuming still. He shakes his head and rolls out of bed, finally motivated to pack Cas a bowl so it’s waiting for him when he gets out of the shower. He throws sweats on and hauls his bags over his shoulder. 

Cas is still in the shower when Dean gets back upstairs so he strips down and slips in the bathroom from the hall. The showers running but Cas isn’t in it, instead sitting on the closed toilet, his head in his hands. It’s obvious he hasn’t been in the shower this entire time considering he’s dry and the bathroom is freezing. 

Dean’s on his knees in a second, kneeling in front of Cas. He runs his hands up Cas’ legs and Cas raises his head up miserably. Dean pulls him into his arms and Cas goes like he’s been waiting this whole time for Dean. 

Dean’s more and more sure they’ve been waiting for each other. 

He keeps one arm around Cas while he makes the shower hot, pulling them both under the spray and letting Cas rest in his arms. He runs through the logistics of staying home and keeping Cas in his bed and under his covers for a week instead. 

“We’re still going, Dean,” Cas lifts his head and kisses Dean. “I’m fine.”

_ How does he do that? _

“Are you sure?” Dean leans down to catch Cas’ eyes which have drifted down to their feet. “Hey, are you sure? Because I’m fine, either way, long as we get to stay together.” Cas eyes are tired when he looks at Dean. 

“I want to go. A little distance from home sounds better than ever, if I’m being honest,” he admits. “Can we just get in bed and watch Netflix?” 

Dean noses at the soft spot behind Cas’ ear. “You wanna Netflix and chill with me, Cas?” 

Cas laughs and nods into the curve of Dean’s neck. “We already crossed half of that off the list.” 

“You did,” Dean huffs. “Guess the rest of the date is on me then.” He pulls Cas out of the shower and towels them both down, rubbing for an extra minute or two at Cas’ hair as he runs through Netflix suggestions. Dean doesn’t bother to dress them, instead tucking Cas right into bed and putting his bong in his hands with a lighter. 

Cas’ laugh is light and Dean wants to keep it that way. He kisses him because he just can’t  _ not.  _

“Gonna check the locks, make a kitchen run. Tea?” He offers and Cas’ eyes light up and he nods his head, his mouth already full of smoke he exhales as Dean grins and goes to make them their drinks. 

He’s waiting on Cas’ teapot while he checks the locks, makes sure all their bags are packed and throws together their bathroom kit for the next morning so they can grab it and go. He finds he’s ready for this trip when usually, the night before he travels, he’s anxious and pacing. Tonight, he just wants to wrap himself up with Cas and relax. 

He’s thrilled when they do just that. Cas is on him the moment he slips into bed beside him. He winds their legs together and tucks himself under Dean’s arm so he can still enjoy his cup of tea while they watch Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown. Every time they watch, Cas goes on and on about visiting that country and doing as much authentic stuff as they can. Dean’s been researching ways to get over his fear of flying. 

With the lights off and the TV turned down low, they burrow into the blankets, trading kisses long into the night and often just stopping to breathe together. Dean drifts off during one of these bouts, but wakes again disoriented. The TV is off and the room is dark and it takes Dean a second to realize what’s so  _ wrong _ about it all.

Cas isn’t in bed with him anymore. 

Dean’s heart skips before he notices the light coming from the hall. Dean slips out of bed and pads out, his bare feet cold on the hardwood despite the warmth in the air. 

He finds Cas laying across his couch, a book in his hands. His yoga mat is rolled out in front of the fireplace and his bong is sitting on the table next to him. Dean watches him, watches his fingers grasp the page and turn it, one of his knees hitching up as he shifts his naked body. Dean wonders if he was doing yoga naked and he’s disappointed he missed that, a sigh slipping from his lips before he can stop it. 

“Dean?” Cas sits up. “Why are you up?” 

“I should say the same, Cas.” Dean steps into the room and lets his eyes drift over Cas’ set up. 

Cas flushes and drops his gaze to his lap where his book sits closed, his finger holding his place. “I’m sorry, Dean, I just—sometimes—” He sits up straighter when Dean drops down next to him on the sofa. “Sometimes I can’t sleep and I don’t want to disturb you so I come out here and read, or meditate until I think I can sleep.” He doesn’t stop Dean from pulling the book out of his hands and putting its bookmark in place before setting it on the table. 

Dean takes Cas’ hands in his and squeezes them. 

“I’ve had insomnia on and off since I was seventeen,” Cas continues. “I’m so sorry if I’ve disturbed you, I’m being selfish.”

“Selfish?” Dean’s confused. Does Cas think he’s upset? 

“I should have just told you and not tried to stay over but—I just—really enjoy laying with you and more often than not, I can fall asleep with you but sometimes—”  

“Whoa, Cas, hey—” Dean stops him. “I understand, man. I’m not  _ mad. _ Did you think I’d be pissed at you?” 

Cas finally looks up at him and now they’re both confused. “You’re not? But you love to sleep.” 

Dean huffs out a laugh. “Not without you, dummy.” He leans over and kisses Cas. “Now that I’m awake, wanna hang out with me?” 

Cas laughs and swings his legs over Dean’s lap. He reaches for the bong and is satisfied it’s filled enough before he lights it and shotguns the smoke into Dean’s mouth. Their lips slide together but they’re both smiling like idiots. Dean lets the smoke drift out of his mouth as he presses wet kisses down Cas’ neck. 

Cas threads his hand into Dean’s hair, a mirror image to their earlier activities. Dean sucks at the curve of Cas’ neck and Cas presses down, sealing Dean’s mouth to his skin. Dean pulls the muscle into his mouth and sucks, coaxing the blood under Cas’ skin to pool there to form a dark bruise. Cas is whimpering low in his throat but he doesn’t relent and loosen his grip until Dean lets go and presses his tongue to the mark. 

When he pulls back, he knows the hickey will be prominent all week. Cas presses two fingers to it and groans. “How dark is it?”

“Everyone’s gonna know you’re mine, Cas,” Dean murmurs into his boyfriend’s skin. “Is that what you wanted?” 

“Y-yes,” Cas pants out as Dean pushes him into the couch pillows and works his way down his body. He slows the drag of his mouth when Cas starts talking.

“Everyone in my life, from my mother to Gabriel, to anyone I’ve trusted enough to sleep with more than once  _ and _ overnight, has treated my insomnia like I was doing it to—to—” Cas shakes under Dean’s tongue laving at his hip bones. He pauses so Cas can collect himself. 

“Thank you,” he pets Dean’s hair and Dean nuzzles into his hip. “Everyone acted like I was doing it simply to be a burden on  _ them. _ ” The weight of Cas’ hand on his head is the only thing that grounds Dean from reacting to that because Dean’s god damn sick of the growing list of people who’ve hurt his boyfriend. “There’s no use being mad, Dean, I’m not, not anymore.” 

Dean frowns. 

Cas caresses his cheek and Dean looks at him. “You’re the first person to accept it, to sit down next to me and not demand I go back to bed with you, or tell me to just get over it and close my eyes.” 

A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitches and he swallows his anger back, covering it with a twist of his lips and a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Jokes on them, they could have just blown you on the couch, like I’m gonna do.” 

Cas hips twitch under him and Dean can feel his cock thickening. He flashes a smile at Cas and bites into his hip. Another twitch of Cas’ cock and Dean’s tired of teasing. He grabs Cas’ hips and drags him down, pulling his legs open to hook one up on the back of the couch, the other hanging off the couch. 

“Bendy,” they mutter into each other’s mouth, sharing a laugh that turns into a moan when their hips tip together. Dean drops down to Cas’ ear. “Gonna make you feel good, sweetheart. Gonna make you come,” Dean whispers as he drops back down to Cas’ hips, Cas’ cock leaking between them. The head brushes against Dean’s cheek in a wet drag and they both moan at the contact. 

Cas digs his heel into Dean’s shoulder when Dean sucks him into his mouth, Cas crying out his name, over and over. He tastes so good, his pre-come warm and salty on his tongue. Dean spreads it around, dips his tongue into Cas’ slit to lick it out and that makes Cas squirm under him. 

Dean hums in the back of his throat and Cas’ cock pulses in his mouth. “Mmhmm,” Dean hums in encouragement and Cas’ hips tips up and Dean slides his hands under Cas’ body to swallow him down, Cas’ come spilling down Dean’s throat. Dean guides him back down as Cas goes limp in his arms, his chest heaving as Dean pulls off him, licking and cleaning Cas with his tongue.  

“Dean,” Cas moans, slow and hot, like a prayer and Dean’s coming into his own fist, splashes of come hitting the couch and Cas’ thighs. He curls over to pant into Cas’ stomach before he’s cleaning Cas’ thighs too, Dean’s tongue curling around his own drops of release. 

Cas watches him through hooded eyes and Dean stares back, letting his head rest on Cas’ thigh now back along the top of the couch. His eyes study Dean’s face and Dean hopes he finds comfort there. Cas snakes their fingers together and kisses the back of Dean’s hand. 

“Take me to bed, Dean,” he requests and he doesn’t let go of Dean’s hand until he has to, when they’re finally woven together under the sheets, Cas resting on his stomach halfway over Dean’s chest. A wild lock of hair tickles Dean’s nose and he blows it out of the way, Cas’ laugh breathy against his chest as they settle in.

They finally drift off two hours before their alarm wakes them. Cas makes them two, big, travel cups of coffee while Dean showers and they’re on the road within thirty minutes. 

Cas sleeps tucked under Dean’s arm three out of the four hours it takes to get to Tahoe.


	14. Chapter 14

The drive into South Lake Tahoe is incredible. Dean’s never seen so many tall trees and the sky is a shade of blue that rivals Cas’ eyes. He really wants to pull over with his camera but they’re on a schedule and his stomach is growling. Sam texted about an hour before telling them the address to the house and that Sarah is preparing lunch for them. 

They come around a bend just minutes from the house and suddenly, the lake is all they can see and its stunning. The sun sparkles off the surface, and it looks like someone scattered diamonds across the water. The water is dark and inky and so fucking  _ blue _ that Dean needs a new word. He can’t wait to see it reflecting in Cas’ eyes. 

Cas gasps next to him and Dean has to agree. He turns to Dean with wide eyes. “I didn’t pack enough paint.” 

Dean already thought he didn’t bring enough film and he cracks a smile. “I feel ya, Cas.” 

They arrive at the house minutes later, and holy shit, it’s not just a little place in Tahoe, it’s a fucking mansion. Ok, maybe it’s not a  _ mansion, _ but it’s really fucking close to one. It’s modern, two stories with a small porch and a balcony on the second story. Sam comes bounding outside, already taking their bags from their shoulders. 

“Finally, how slow were you driving Dean?”

Dean scowls. He’s right on fucking time.

“I said noon, Sam. It’s fifteen past.” 

“Whatever, Dean,” Sam calls over his shoulder. “Let’s have lunch and then we’ll give you the tour.” 

Sarah’s put together an impressive spread: cheese and crackers, fresh fruit, a pasta salad, and these tiny little cheese steak sandwiches that look awesome. She waits by the counter, a hesitant smile on her face. 

“Did you find the house ok? I hope there wasn’t too much traffic.” 

“Thanks again for having us, the food looks awesome.” Dean grins and pulls her in for a hug which she returns with a bounce in her step. Cas pulls Sarah’s hands into his and squeezes them. “We didn’t have any problems whatsoever,” he reassures her. 

“How would you know, you slept the whole way here,” Dean says before he bites into a sandwich, but not before receiving a narrow look from Cas. 

_ Fuck, this tiny sandwich is so good.  _

Dean groans around his bite and Cas raises an eyebrow. 

“Jesus, Dean, reel it in,” Sam nags. 

Dean swallows and tilts his head towards his brother. “You ain’t heard nothin’ yet,” he says with a leer. 

Cas rolls his eyes and hooks his arm through Sarah’s. “The house is beautiful, thank you for having us.” 

“Thank you guys for coming,” she replies, a smile on her face. Her hair is in two braids and she’s wearing a blue bikini under a pair of overalls and she’s frickin’ adorable. “Sam’s been squirming around like a puppy all morning.”

“Yeah, he gets excited and pees on the floor, I forgot to warn you,” Dean says with mock regret. Sarah laughs and Sam groans. 

“Is this how it’s gonna be all week?”

“Yeah, Sammy, how else am I gonna pass the time?”

“Cas…” Sam pleads. “Help me out here, come on. Little brother solidarity!”

“Cas isn’t gonna fall for it, Sasquatch.”

“Dean.” 

Dean purses his lips and narrows his eyes at Cas. He knows that look. That’s Cas’  _ do you wanna sleep on the couch tonight, Dean? _ look. Dean hates that look because he only gets it when he really deserves it. In his own defense, he doesn’t get it often and Cas is shit at follow through, anyway.

“I’m taking pity on you. For Sarah.” Dean flashes his little brother a sly grin and stuffs another sandwich in his face before Sam can respond. 

They eat a little more before Sarah suggests Sam show them around and take them to their room so they can unpack. She was right, Sam’s jumping around like an excited puppy when he shows them the rest of the house. 

There’s a fuckin’ pool table and that’s pretty much all Dean cares about. The flat screen and surround sound in the living room is decent too. And fine, when he stops admiring the pool table, Dean notices that the house is really fucking nice. 

A black leather sectional couch takes up half the room and a shelf with books, movies, and the most board games Dean’s ever seen in another person’s house. The back of the house is all windows, the view facing straight towards the lake with a small dock at the shore. Dean’s not gonna get tired of that view every day. 

Sarah takes them outside to the large deck that spans the length of the house, large enough to hold a table big enough for eight, a humongous grill—  sucker even has a sink attached— and the biggest jacuzzi Dean’s ever seen in his life. Aside from shitty motel spas, he’s never been in one this nice and he can’t fuckin’ wait to get in there with Cas later. 

He’s thinking about slippery kisses when Sam knocks into his shoulder. “You can’t have sex in there.”

“Shut up, bitch.” 

“Jerk.” 

Sarah clears her throat and Sam flushes. 

“If you gentlemen are done, I was just telling Cas about the boat,” Sarah says, her voice teasing.

Dean perks up and looks towards the dock, staring at the pontoon boat moored at the dock. It’s white and black with a dark grey canopy over one end. It’s at least thirty feet and fuckin’  _ decked out. _ Dean can’t wait to get it out on the water. 

“I thought we’d take it out tomorrow, there are a few coves around here that are nice and private.” Sarah tucks a strand of loose hair over her ear. “We can pack a light lunch and cross the lake to the Nevada side, maybe grab an early dinner over there, be back on the water by sundown.” 

“The sunset is pretty incredible from the water,” Sam chimes in. 

Now Dean wants to make sure all his camera equipment is ready to go. 

“That sounds amazing, we can’t wait,” Cas says with a smile. Sam smirks over his head and mouths “ _ we _ ” at Dean with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Dean rolls his eyes and flips his annoying brother off. 

“Sam, do you want to show them their room?” Sarah asks and Sam jumps into action, opening the door for them. “You guys can unpack, take a nap, whatever you want. We were just going to relax this afternoon, maybe walk into town after dinner.” 

They all go inside and Dean slings an arm over Sarah’s shoulders. “That sounds awesome, Sarah, thanks so much.” He gestures inside. “This house kicks ass.” 

She laughs. “I’ll let my dad know you think so.” 

He follows Sam and Cas upstairs and his eyes widen when Sam opens the door to their room. 

It’s humongous. Like, half the size of the house huge and facing the lake, obviously the biggest room in the house. 

“Dude, no, this should be your room,” he protests. 

“Master goes to the guests, Dean,” he answers. “Trust me, I already tried to take it.” 

Cas chuckles and drops their bags onto the bed. “Please tell Sarah the room is perfect and we’re very thankful.” 

Always the diplomat, especially when it comes to Sam. Dean suspects Cas still thinks he needs to prove himself to his little brother, sometimes. 

Sam clasps Cas on the shoulder. “Will do, we’re glad to have you guys here.” 

Dean smirks and mouths, “ _ we _ ” at his little brother with a wink. Sam shakes his head and shuts the door behind himself when he leaves. 

First thing Dean does is take off his boots. No more shoes, starting now, sandals only. He peels off layers because he’s determined to be as relaxed as possible this week and he thinks about the stuff he wants to take downstairs with him when Cas interrupts his thoughts by clearing his throat. 

Dean turns to see his boyfriend spread out on the bed, shoes and pants gone, only his t-shirt and boxers remain. Cas moves quick. 

Dean moves quicker to cross the room, kicking off his pants so they match. He presses his body down on top of a laughing Cas, peppering kisses to Cas’ neck and chin. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas laughs out before he threads his hand through Dean’s hair. 

“Why are you wearing clothes,” Dean complains, pushing at Cas’ shirt to slide his hands inside. Cas’ skin is warm and Dean drags his palms up slowly. Cas bats at him and sits up to pull his shirt off, making Dean groan and roll away. Cas flicks his shirt into Dean’s face and turns on his stomach, pillowing his head in his arms. 

“This house is gorgeous, don’t you think,” he says casually. Dean’s staring at the planes of Cas’ back, the way he’s thick all over, and the way the art adorning his skin moves over his muscles. 

“Don’t move,” Dean instructs as he climbs off the bed, pulling his own shirt off at the same time. He grabs his camera bag and pulls the digital out. He’s been itching to take pictures of Cas in bed, the thought crossing his mind every time they’re naked together. 

What better time to broach the subject than on their first vacation. 

Cas is watching him with an interested quirk of his eyebrow. “What are you up to, Officer?” 

Dean shakes the camera. “How opposed would you be if I brought this into bed?” He bites his lip and gives Cas the best puppy dog eyes he could possibly achieve. 

Cas moves around to his side, propping himself up by his elbow, heat in his eyes. “You want to take pictures of me, in bed?” 

_ This mother fucker is being coy. _

“You literally have a sketchbook filled with naked drawings of me,” he deadpans. 

“True,” Cas smirks and rolls back to his stomach. “I’m perfectly fine with whatever you want to do, Dean. I’d never want to stifle your creativity.” 

“Oh, I can get plenty creative with your naked ass in my bed,” Dean mutters as he climbs back onto the bed. Cas puts his head down and laughs, the sound Dean loves muffled by his arms. He smacks Cas’ ass as he brackets his legs over Cas’ thick thighs. 

Cas is squirming under him so Dean swats him again. “Hold still, why are you wiggling so much? You’re gonna be blurry,” Dean grouches as he squeezes one of Cas’ hips. 

“It doesn’t help when your hard on is sitting between my thighs,” Cas grumbles which makes Dean grind his hips down. 

Cas groans. “You’re the worst.”  He stretches his arms over his head and Dean’s mouth goes dry. He gives his head a little shake and tries to focus, turning the camera on and twisting the lense until Cas comes into focus, the lines of his buddha sharp and everything else with a slight blur, Cas’ dark hair in contrast to the white comforter and his tan arms. 

Dean pushes the shutter with a sigh. He changes the focus to Cas’ face now, zooming in to his profile. His breath catches as the camera adjusts and Cas becomes clear, his long eyelashes resting against the apple of his cheek because he’s still smiling and fuck, that little dimple Dean always wants to touch is flashing at Dean and he takes another picture, Cas’ stubble sharp when Dean looks back at the photo. 

_ Fuck. His boyfriend is hot as fuck.  _

Dean’s had enough of the camera, instead wanting to get his mouth on Cas as quickly as possible. He leans over to put the camera on the nightstand, far enough back to keep it safe. 

He can’t stop his hands from running up and down Cas’ back, kneading and pushing Cas’ tight muscles. “We need to get you some massage oil, babe.” Dean works his hands into Cas’ lower back, eliciting a deep groan. “I bet there’s some kind of farmer’s market we can hit up around here,” He slides his hands down to the globes of Cas’ ass. “Wanna rub my man down properly, you know?” Cas’ breath hitches and Dean smirks. 

‘Dean,” Cas whines when Dean doesn’t move on, instead continuing to knead Cas’ ass. It’s probably more so because Dean’s rolling his hips a little and under every thrust, Cas’ thighs twitch. Dean lowers his chest down to blanket Cas’ back and he pushes his hands up Cas’ still outstretched arms to wind their fingers together and pull Cas’ arms down. Dean kisses Cas’ cheek, his temple, the hair above his ear and when Cas puts his head down, Dean kisses the nape of his neck, sucking at it lightly. 

Dean releases Cas’ hands and lifts himself enough for Cas to turn, enough for him to use his levity to pull Dean back down, hands looped around his neck, only to slide into Dean’s hair the moment their mouths meet. 

_ It’s been too fucking long since he properly kissed Cas. Six hours at least, what the fuck? _

Cas’ mouth is hot and eager and Dean’s into it. He grinds their hips together making Cas hook a leg over the back of Dean’s thighs, keeping them together. Cas palms his ass and pushes Dean’s underwear down with both hands. Dean laughs into Cas’ mouth and lifts his hips up, trying to help. 

A little shimmy later and Dean’s naked with Cas wrapped around him. “Cas, babe, naked,” Dean tells him, hoping he gets the hint and unwinds so Dean can get him naked too. He’d like to get them both off and maybe get in a nap but his boyfriend is being a lazy asshole. Dean prods him with his knee. 

“Come on, before I tell you to fuck off and I take a nap,” Dean tugs at Cas’ boxers. Cas groans and tightens his legs. “I will fall asleep on you Cas, I swear to go—”  

Cas cuts him off with the press of his lips to Dean’s. Ok, he’s down for more kissing. He relaxes into Cas’ touch, enjoying the slide of their lips and letting his hips roll to the same rhythm, something slow and soft and  _ nice _ . He tugs at Cas’ hair to tilt his head to the side, better for Dean to slot their lips together. Cas is eager, his tongue sliding into Dean’s mouth the moment he opens it, his tongue exploring Dean’s mouth. Cas kisses like he was the first to do it, like no one had ever really kissed anyone until Cas came along and then it was like, oh, ok so  _ that’s  _ what it’s supposed to feel like. 

_ That’s probably just how you feel, dumbass.  _

Dean’s fine with that. No one else should be kissing Cas anymore, anyway. Ever. 

His brain grinds to a halt.

_ Like, forever? _

Cas pulls back enough for Dean to snap out of whatever fucking daze he was in and  _ shit. _

“Dean? Are you all right?”

Shit, Cas is concerned. How does Dean explain to him that he just realized he’s in love with him and it kind of just broke his brain? Do they make a card for that? 

Cas cups his jaw. “Dean, look at me,” Dean does and Cas is smiling softly at him and yup, oh yeah, hell yes. 

In Love. 

He forces his face to relax. “Hey.” 

“Where did you go?” 

Dean’s been compiling pros and cons to blurting his realization out at this exact moment and now he’s on the spot and it’s too much. They just fucking got here and Dean doesn’t want to fuck it up, say something so huge and something so important and what if—what if Cas doesn’t feel the same? 

When Cas looks at Dean the way he’s looking at him now, the lovesick part of him thinks it’s possible that Cas loves him back.

And then his rational part speaks up and reminds him that  _ if  _ (big if, according to his ego) Cas doesn’t feel the same, it could ruin the whole week. Cas might ask Dean to take him home and then its four hours of awkward silence in the car and every good part of Dean’s life is gone. 

Nope, love declarations are probably better for home where they can both slink off to their respective corners for totally different reasons and pretend all this never happened. In fact, he’s gonna push it down, table it, enjoy their vacation and tell Cas he’s in love with him when they get home. 

_ You got this, Winchester. _

He rearranges his smile and kisses his almost naked boyfriend back. “Not my fault your kisses make me all loopy.” Cas’ smile is slow as it spreads across his face and Dean can’t look at him anymore so he buries his head in the crook of Cas’ neck, his lips parted and pressed on Cas’ throat. 

_ Maybe—maybe he doesn’t got this.  _

Cas arranges them so Dean is mostly on top of him, his hip and leg planted across Cas, one of Cas’ hands wrapped around Dean’s shoulder and the other holding Dean’s hand. 

How can this be so easy? Dean’s bewildered by the fluctuation of emotions hitting him. Dean’s so used to putting everyone first and it’s strange for someone else to do that for  _ him. _ Cas though, he always feels two or three steps ahead of Dean, anticipating his needs,  _ their _ needs and it’s incredible to feel like he has an actual  _ partner _ he can rely on. 

It would be really fucking great if Cas loves him back. 

Dean lays with Cas breathing softly into his hair and tracing circles into his shoulder. The silence of the lake and the gauzy curtains blocking the bright afternoon sun make it possible for both men to drift off, wrapped around each other for the kind of nap that only comes when the weight of the world has been lifted, if only temporarily. 

Sam knocking softly on the door is what wakes Dean. They’re in the same position but now Cas’ hand is buried in Dean’s hair and god damn it, he doesn’t want to move. 

“Dinner will be ready in thirty, just a heads up,” Sam calls through the door before his footsteps fade. 

Dean tilts his head up to kiss the underside of Cas’ chin. “Cas,” he whispers. “Almost dinner time, babe.” 

Cas’ arms tighten around Dean and he huffs into his hair. 

“All right, grumpy. Come on, let’s unpack.” Dean uncurls them slow, kissing along Cas’ body as he slides off the bed. “It’s complete bullshit that I’m naked and you’re not, I’d like you to remember that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cas mutters as Dean opens his duffle and pulls out a pair of board shorts, pulling them up and tying them shut. 

Warm hands slide over his hips and Cas’ weight is on his back, kisses being worked across his shoulders. Cas’ fingers are tangling in the strings of Dean’s shorts like he’s trying to open them and Dean shakes his head, turning around in Cas’ embrace. 

“You had your chance, buddy,” Dean kisses the bruise on Cas’ neck, Cas hissing at the pressure. “That isn’t going to make me want you any less, Dean,” Cas grits out. 

“Then I suggest you go unpack and stop rubbin’ up on me, Cas,” Dean teases. 

Cas rolls his eyes but lets Dean go. “Be careful what you wish for, honeybee.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

This is not a bet Dean wants to take. He throws a pair of socks and they bounce off the back of Cas’ head. All Dean gets is a raised eyebrow in response and he smirks at it before he turns back to his bags, putting his shirts and tank tops in one drawer and his shorts in another. Sandals get tossed by his side of the bed and the empty bag gets tossed in the closet. 

Cas’ follows and Dean unpacks the rest of their cameras while Cas takes their toiletries to the bathroom. He squeezes Dean’s ass when he grabs his leather Dopp kit to take with him to the bathroom. They don’t need to chat, to fill the silence with noise; both of them content to orbit around each other. 

They go downstairs together and dinner smells amazing. Dean stops short in the doorway to the kitchen, Cas’ hands catching on his hips, because Sam is standing inside, his arms around Sarah as she throws together a salad. He’s smiling and whispering in her ear and she’s blushing and it’s god damn adorable. Dean wishes he had his camera. 

He can feel Cas smile into his shoulder and Dean jerks his head towards him, Cas meeting him halfway with the kiss he knew Dean was looking for. 

_ He’s really gotta love Dean back.  _

Sam huffs out an embarrassed laugh when he finally notices them in the doorway, standing with their foreheads pressed together in the shadow of the small hallway. Dean pulls away and follows Cas inside.

“Sorry, we didn’t want to interrupt.” Cas sounds so earnest that Sam and Sarah can’t even feel embarrassed. 

“That’s how I felt when I came to tell you about dinner,” Sam replies before he pops a slice of green pepper in his mouth. 

Dean rolls his eyes (and head) back. “We were takin’ a nap, ya creep.” 

“Sure, Dean,” Sam says and pulls two beers out of the fridge, opening them with the bottle opener stuck to the fridge. He passes one to each of them and then grabs a few for him and Sarah. 

“Sarah, can I help with anything?” Dean asks, completely ready to work for his dinner. 

Cas smiles and slides an arm around Deans waist. “I'm happy to help as well.”

“Seriously, so adorable,” Sarah shakes her head incredulously before she's shooing them out to the back. “Could you take this stuff here and set the table out back?”

Sarah made them avocado and bacon grilled cheese sandwiches on thick artisan bread. Dean eats two and Cas asks for the recipe. 

_ Fuck yes. _

Dean’s ordering a panini press from Amazon when they get home. 

He gathers up the plates, ignoring Sarah’s protests and Cas joins him, promising they’ll return with more beer. Cas helps him clean up quick, and he squeezes Dean’s hip before he goes upstairs to grab his travel bag with his weed inside. 

Dean opens fresh beers for all of them and by the time he’s done, Cas is back and smiling and looking rumpled, his feet bare and one side of his shirt hitched up on his hip, stuck on the band of his shorts. Cas’ hair is still wild from their nap and Dean just wants to sink his hands into it until Cas is making those breathy sighs Dean loves so much when he plays with Cas’ hair. 

Damn, Dean loves vacation. 

Cas smirks at him when Dean straightens his shirt, shoving his hand under it in the same movement before yanking Cas to him. He thumbs at Cas’ ribs, a slow drag that makes Cas’ breath hitch in his throat. 

“You’re cute,” Dean says into the curve of Cas’ neck, breathy with every intention to get his boyfriend a little worked up. It works because Cas has him pressed up against the pantry door in the next moment, his hips pushing against Dean’s and pinning him against the wood. His mouth is hot on Dean’s neck where he drags his teeth against it. 

“Ok, ok I’m sorry,” Dean pants out. He knows when he’s been bested, fucking Cas. “You win, you cheat.” 

Cas chuckles low in his throat, his lips still pressed to Dean’s throat. Dean can feel his smile and he knows its Cas’ cheshire grin and Dean wants to see it so he pulls back Cas’ head by his hair and yup, there it is. 

Dean isn’t gonna be able to take it if Cas doesn’t love him. 

He presses their lips together briefly before they break apart to go outside, Dean handing out the beers before sitting next to Cas on the outdoor sofa. It’s positioned around a table with a fire pit in the middle, a square with black, shimmering rocks below the gas flame. The sun’s setting and the sky is catching fire while they watch, Cas tucked under his arm and the sounds of the evening swelling as the crickets start their songs. 

Dean keeps trying not to think about it but how can he not? Curse his stupid brain for deciding  _ this _ had to be the time for all this shit. Dean wishes he were braver or hell, smart enough to know for sure that Cas feels the same or doesn’t. He’s good now; good job, nice place to live but it’s not like Cas has ever made Dean feel like that stuff meant anything to him. They’ve never really talked about their future, more apt at living in the moment and now, every time Dean gets in his own head about things, he feels like he’s cheating them out of that. 

His thoughts are making him sick of himself so he vows to try harder and enjoy the moment. He happily pulls Cas’ feet into his lap as he unpacks his kit, handing it over to Dean to pick the strain to smoke as he gets his pipe ready. 

“Already guys?” Sam asks, making Sarah perk up and watch Cas with interest.

“Look Sammy, I’m off the clock for a week.” Dean passes Cas the container of weed he’s chosen so he can pack the bowl. “So excuse me, but I’m gonna get high, I’m gonna stop shaving, and I’m gonna make out with my boyfriend whenever, and wherever I want to.” With each declaration, Cas’ eyes grow bigger and bigger and when Dean’s done, he’s practically vibrating in his seat. Dean leans back and opens his arms and gets the lap full of Cas he was expecting. He wraps his arms around Cas’ middle and looks at his brother with a smug smile. “Care to join us and enjoy yourself?” 

Sam’s narrowed look lingers for a moment before his face cracks with a wide smile. “Jokes on you, Dean, I brought my own weed.” He digs a plastic baggie out of his pocket and Cas grabs it, his brow furrowed. Dean eyes the bag and snorts out a laugh at the collection of pitiful flakes inside. 

Cas peels the bag open and sniffs it before he hands it back to Sam. “I’m sorry but I believe that would be better suited to season tomorrow night’s steaks.” 

Dean hoots out a laugh when Sam snatches the baggie back and takes his own whiff, his bitch face sliding firmly into place before he shoves the bag back into his pocket.

“Don’t worry, Sammy,” Dean takes pity on him. “We brought enough to share.” 

Cas nods and finishes packing the bowl still sitting in Dean’s lap. He noses at Cas’ back and situates them so Cas can sit comfortably and Dean will still be able to feel his legs. 

“Nah, none for us tonight,” Sam says as Sarah yawns into the back of her hand. “We got up early today and skipped afternoon ‘nap time’,” he uses obnoxious air quotes. “We’re gonna head up.”

“Maybe try a little more ‘nap time’,” Dean mimics under his breath, Cas nudging him in the ribs and shoving the pipe in his hands as he tries to make fun of his brother’s air quotes. 

“Dinner was wonderful, thank you,” Cas blurts out, saving them all from more bickering. “We’ll see you in the morning.” 

They say their goodnights and finally, Dean and Cas are alone. Cas lights the bowl and breathes in, sucking the smoke through the pipe as the flower ignites. It smells sweet and burns hot, a red cherry glowing in the dark. He passes it to Dean before letting go of the smoke, a plume of it leaving his pink lips, his chin covered in stubble and jutting out. Cas stares up at the stars as his smoke dissipates and Dean stares at him. 

His eyes trail down the strong slope of Cas’ forehead and over the sharp line of his nose, the point perfectly round. The dip of his parted lips and the curve of his chin mesmerize Dean. Cas’ eyes slide over to him and his mouth curves up in a slow smile. It snaps Dean out of his daze and he pulls it together enough to take his hit, enjoying the taste of smoke in his mouth and the burn down the back of his throat. 

He tilts his face up to the stars, exhales, and watches the white smoke float up and away. The high is already rolling over him, sinking into each of his bones. He hears the flick of the lighter as Cas takes another hit, this time pulling Dean to him to share it, their mouths finding each other’s in the dark. Dean breathes in as Cas licks into his mouth and he pulls Cas up and closer to him because he wants—Dean  _ needs _ more of Cas. Needs just one thing but wants whatever he can get. 

The second hit is warm in his lungs and makes his shoulders loosen, makes him wiggle his toes and Cas sees and trails a hand down Dean’s leg to touch Dean’s big toe with a laugh. Dean pulls Cas back, slow, and Cas comes, lazy and laughing into Dean’s space. 

Fuck, he’s a bundle of loose limbs and grabby hands and now, wet lips sucking kisses into Dean’s throat and along the line of Dean’s jaw and Dean swears Cas is straight up sin. 

He sinks his hands in Cas’ hair and they do this for a while, taking turns being greedy with each other, enjoying each other’s pleasure in being together and touching, always touching. When they make it upstairs and Cas is kiss swollen and flushed against their pillows, Dean almost tells him, then. Cas’ eyes are searching, the two of them locked in their trademark stare, and Dean thinks—just for a second because it’s all he can afford to indulge in—he thinks it’s possible Cas loves him back. 

Because this, right now, Dean knows they're never gonna need more than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	15. Chapter 15

“It’s our first goddamn day of vacation, Cas,” Dean huffs.

“Yes it is, and you specifically told me that when you’re being a—and these are your words, not mine—‘a whiny bitch’ to remind you that this was your idea,” Cas replies, “and that you need to ‘suck it up, Winchester’ and move your fine ass.” 

_ Yup, that sounds like him. _

Cas stops suddenly and pulls Dean in by the hip as he tries to pass. 

“Some of those embellishments are mine,” he murmurs into Dean’s jaw as he cups his supposedly fine ass. 

“I’m mostly impressed by your use of air quotes,” he teases back, getting pinched in return. 

Cas lets him go and continues jogging down the path. Dean waits a beat before he follows; he’s been watching Cas’ perky ass for a mile already and he’s not about to stop now. Cas knows it, it’s why he’s wearing those tiny fucking shorts to begin with, the sadist. They’re blue and molded to his ass and end right below it so it’s all golden skin and tattoos and flexing thighs and why the hell are they still running and why isn’t Dean’s face between Cas’ legs yet? 

_ Running with a boner sucks. _

He tries to focus, mostly so he doesn’t fall on his face. They’ve been up since dawn, Cas pulling Dean from sleep with his mouth on Dean’s neck, intent on giving him a matching mark. It left Dean hard and wanting while they got ready to go and suffice to say, Dean’s been in a constant state of arousal all morning and this run was a terrible idea. 

Cas adjusts the volume on the playlist he’s playing and picks up his pace. Dean recently discovered Cas’ obsession with dual audio, thinking the helmet thing was a one off until Cas handed him a pair of wireless earbuds that were synced with his and that was that. Dean can listen to his own music or hop onto Cas’ if he wants, which he usually does. Cas’ running playlist is good; Dean uses it at the gym sometimes. 

A New Politics song begins and Cas shoots a grin over his shoulder at Dean, an eyebrow raised in a challenge. Dean knows that look and he takes a steadying breath because he knows what’s coming.  

Cas breaks out in a sprint. 

**_I spend my money on the regular miracles, just like you, like me, like everybody else._ **

The first time he did this, they were in the Presidio one morning and moments after he took off running, Dean was passing him with ease. Cas couldn’t believe it, despite knowing how fit Dean had to be for work. Dean just never mentioned how freakishly fast he can run when given the opportunity. Fastest on his high school track team, and then fastest in his platoon and now, fastest in his squad. It’s just not something Dean brings up in everyday conversation but mostly because it’s fun to freak people out when given the chance. 

Cas is no exception. 

Dean didn’t expect that it would become a competition but damn if it’s not hot as fuck when Cas gives him a run for his money. 

**_Up on the sun looking sad and beautiful, just like you, like me, like everybody else._ **

**_When it gets loud, I turn it up._ **

He’s doing it now, taking off into the brush as the trail curves around the shore. Dean barks out a laugh when Cas’ ducks under a low-hanging branch and speeds around the bend, disappearing from his sight and making him pump his legs harder, shallow out his breathing and lengthen his stride to catch up. 

Cas is getting faster. 

Dean turns the corner with caution and then sprints, Cas a decent distance away already. The trail cuts through trees, the morning sun breaking through and making Cas glow, his hair wild and flying in the wind. Dean’s never been happier that Cas missed a haircut, too focused on his deadline the last few weeks. 

His boyfriend is fuckin’ hot. 

**_When it’s too hot, I light it up, Oh light it up yeah, smoke em if you got em._ **

The thought makes Dean move faster, ducking under branches and jumping over roots that cross the path. Cas looks over his shoulder every few yards, the grin still on his face as he watches Dean catch up. 

**_Here come the Jets, hide my money in your tube socks, run like me, like hell, like everybody else._ **

Dean knows Cas is slowing because his eyes are wild the next time he looks at Dean and Dean reaches him, wrapping arms around Cas’ firm hips and pulling them together in a rough slide of their lips. Cas’ fingers tangle in Dean’s hair and pull, making him choke on his gasp. Cas drags his lips down Dean’s neck, licking at the sweat that drips down his throat. 

**_Hair metal on a Japanese boombox, kicks like you, like me, like everybody else._ **

He rips himself away from Dean, _goddamn him,_ and takes off running again.

Cas gains an advantage on a slight slope that curves back down towards the water, Dean running more cautious having rolled his ankle once on a hill just like this one. Fuck, but he needs to get back to Cas’ mouth and he’s teasing him now. He runs faster when the ground levels out.

**_When it gets loud, I turn it up, Oh shake it like a bad girl up in Harlem._ **

**_When it’s too hot, I light it up, Oh light it up yeah, smoke it if you got em._ **

Cas leads them across beaches, private ones by the looks of the houses, and he veers off, sprinting down a long dock. He shoots Dean a devious grin before he rips off his shirt and dives right into the fucking lake. 

**_When it’s too soft, I shake it up, Sh-sh-sh-shake like a bad girl up in Harlem._ **

By the time Dean’s shirt is off and he’s at the end of the dock, Cas has popped out of the water, his smile brighter than the sun coming up over the trees and it’s the last thing Dean sees before he’s in the lake too. 

**_You’re so sweet but I like it rough, Oh light it up yeah, smoke em if you got em._ **

The water is fucking cold but the best thing he’s ever felt against his heated skin. Dean breaks up out of the water, streams of it running down his face as he slicks his hands back through his hair. Hands grab him and then Cas is there, an arm slung around his neck as he locks their mouths together. 

**_Making a movie on the couch with a flip phone, Just like you, like I like fingers in my mouth._ **

Dean kicks them back to the dock so he can press Cas against a pillar, Cas’ long legs already locked around Dean’s waist as he rolls his hips, his hands in Dean’s hair, groaning when Dean pushes him against the wood, worn smooth by the water. 

**_Up on the sun playing drums with a bleached bone, just like you, like me, like everybody else._ **

Cas’ mouth is hot and still tastes like mint from when he brushed his teeth and he laughs into Dean’s mouth, pulling them apart to look around. 

“I think we’re on private property.” he tries to look sheepish but Cas is a bad actor. Water drips from curls of his hair.

“Guess you’ll have to charm us out of a ticket, buddy,” Dean teases with a nudge to Cas’ cheek with his nose and a nip to his ear. 

Cas retaliates by pushing off the column with his strong legs and dunking Dean into the water. 

**_When it gets loud, I turn it up, Oh shake it like a bad girl up in Harlem._ **

It’s fucking  _ on _ after that and the battle begins, both of them splashing and ducking under the water to pull the other down by their ankles. Their laughs echo off the houses and trees surrounding them and Dean’s only a little sorry they might be disturbing people. It’s too good a moment to dwell on that though so he doesn’t, not for another second. 

They slink back into the house awhile later, both sun dried and grinning at each other. Dean’s praising Cas for buying waterproof headphones to go with his fancy waterproof phone when they get inside but Cas cuts him off by pressing him against the hallway leading to the kitchen and kissing him, hard. Hips dig into his and Dean lets out a strangled moan, Cas laughing deep in his throat at Dean’s obvious need. Running makes Cas’ hormones go all crazy and Dean fuckin’ loves it. He pushes back, digs his hands into Cas’ hips and pulls them tight. The wet slide of their lips is noisy and fuck, Dean’s getting—  

A purposely loud throat clearing from the kitchen, fucking feet away from where they stand, has Cas throwing himself into the wall behind him, almost like he wishes there were more space he could put between him and Dean. He looks fucking  _ scandalized _ . His eyes dart to the doorway to the kitchen and back to Dean before he’s gone, his feet pounding up the stairs. 

Dean takes a deep breath and adjusts himself a little before he pokes his head into the kitchen, his eyes wide and innocent. Sarah and Sam are at the kitchen table, coffee and pancakes between them. Sarah’s laughing into the back of her hand as she pretends to read the newspaper and Sam is scowling at Dean. 

Dean tips them a wave and grins as he steps in, stretching one foot over to reach the fridge, his other leg swinging over in a sorry attempt to appear casual. Mostly to annoy Sam. 

When he ducks down to grab the water from inside, Sam speaks into his back.

“Communal space, Dean. Ever heard of it?” 

Dean stays inside the fridge to get his eye roll out of the way before he straightens and turns, his face adjusted accordingly. “Sorry guys, won’t happen again.” He thinks he sounds sorry. “Gonna be a hot one but the lake feels great.” He gives them a wink as he tries to leave.

“It would be nice to be out of the house in the next hour,” Sam calls out, making Dean lean back in. He casts a salute towards his brother. “One hour, gotcha!” 

“Come down before then and I’ll get some fresh pancakes on the grill for you,” Sarah offers. 

“She’s too good for you, Sammy,” he teases. “Better hope she doesn’t catch on.” Dean leaves before Sam can reply, taking the stairs two at a time to get back to their room. 

Cas sits on the edge of the bed, hunched over with his head in his hands. His running shoes are kicked off and in the corner and his shirt is thrown on the ground next to them. Dean closes the door and Cas looks up, his face still stricken. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he starts. “That was very untoward of me and inappropriate in our shared space and I assumed Sam and Sarah would still be asleep and—”  

“Hey, hey,” Dean drops to the ground between Cas’ knees, holding Cas’ hands between his own. “It’s  _ okay _ .” 

“But your brother—”  

“Sam’s fine. God, you don’t even know how alike you are,” Dean chides, trying to get a smile out of Cas. “He was nagging me about communal space too. And don’t worry, he still thinks I’m the shameless one in the relationship but I think I’d be willing to put money on him figuring out the truth by the end of the week.” 

Cas groans. 

“It’s ok, babe. I love that you’re kinky,” Dean wiggles his eyebrows and Cas huffs out a shaky laugh. “Please don’t hold back on account of my brother’s delicate sensibilities.” 

“I caught him and Sarah making out against the refrigerator yesterday before we ate dinner,” Cas confesses. “I backed out before they noticed me but he doesn’t really have room to nag you.” 

That fucker. 

“These are things you gotta tell me right away, Cas.”

“And further your torture of your little brother? I can’t, with good conscience, contribute to that.” 

Dean leans up to kiss him. “Can you contribute to helping me get off in the shower in the next thirty minutes?” 

“I’ve been waiting to do that all morning, Officer.” 

Dean stands and strips, toeing his shoes and socks off and dropping his shorts, his cock semi-hard and hanging between his legs. Cas licks his lips and follows Dean, a hand slipping over his hip and staying there, the other hand helping Dean pull his shirt over his head. Cas presses against him when Dean leans in to turn on the dual shower heads, the water turning hot and Dean pulling Cas in to press him up against the blue tile. 

They’re skin slips together as they roll their hips, their cocks filling as they slide against each other. Dean runs his hands up and down Cas’ thick body, sluicing water down his sides and across his chest. Cas whimpers as Dean trails his hand down, wrapping it around Cas’ thickening cock and it makes Cas’ breath hitch.

He licks drops of water off Cas’ chest before he drops into a crouch in front of Cas, his hands wrapping around Cas’ thighs. The back of Cas’ head hits the tiles and he moans when Dean takes him into his mouth, Dean’s name falling from his lips as Dean sucks him down. Cas’ hands clench in his hair and his hips twitch and fuck, Dean’ wants him, wants more. 

Dean hums his encouragement from the back of his throat and Cas looks down at him, water dripping from his long hair that hangs over his forehead as he watches Dean bob up and down on his dick. His eyes are dark and he presses them shut when Dean hooks his hand around Cas’ back to encourage him to move. 

Cas slides a hand down to Dean’s jaw and cups it, his hips making their first roll, tentative and gentle. Sapphire eyes study Dean for any sign of his discomfort, Cas ready to stop the moment he recognizes it. Dean prays his eyes are clear when he tilts his chin down, a movement meant to convey his consent. Cas’ grip tightens on his jaw and he starts to move. 

Dean drags slow breaths through his nose, willing his throat and jaw to relax as Cas fucks his mouth. Cas’ thick cock slides against Dean’s tongue pressed against it and Dean hollows his cheeks when Cas slides in, the head of his cock brushing the back of Dean’s throat. He doesn’t choke on sheer will alone, wanting to be what Cas needs, always. 

Cas stills his hips and he sits heavy in Dean’s mouth, the weight making his jaw start to ache. He thumbs at Dean’s cheek and runs a hand through Dean’s hair. “You’re so beautiful, Dean,” he sighs into the white noise of their shower. He’s been quiet, whimpers of pleasure dying on his lips. “I really want to come, I’ve been thinking about this since we woke up and—”  his breath hitches when Dean swallows around the head of his dick. “Seeing you on your knees for me, I—” his hand clenches in Dean’s hair and his cock throbs against Dean’s tongue. 

Dean groans as Cas comes down his throat, his hips not faltering as he continues to rock into Dean’s mouth. Dean swallows around him, come and spit leaking from the corner of his mouth and Cas thumbs it away and stares at Dean when he sucks that thumb into his mouth. 

That’s so fucking hot, Dean’s gonna come and Cas, he reads it off Dean’s face the second the thought crosses his mind and he’s pulling his dick out of Dean’s mouth, and crouching down to where Dean sits on the back of his legs, his legs spread open as he strokes his cock. Cas leans in and kisses the hinge of Dean’s jaw while he takes over Dean’s strokes, murmuring in Dean’s ear.

“You looked incredible Dean, you just swallowed all of me and didn’t even blink, so good, you’re so good for me,” he says, hot in Dean’s ear and Dean’s coming in Cas’ fist, his arm dragging Cas as close as he can as he mouths at Cas’ neck. “Yes, Dean, fuck, you’re perfect, I wish you could see what I see.” 

Dean is boneless and glad he’s sitting on the floor and even gladder when Cas sits down next to him, their legs sliding together as they loll their heads towards each other to trade another kiss, this one slow, the previous heat behind it gone. 

They don’t spend much longer on the shower floor together, take advantage of the duel showerheads and are downstairs well within Sam’s self imposed time limit, both of them cheerful and trading secret smiles while they eat the breakfast Sarah made for them. 

Everyone seems to be in a good mood now and they’re out on the water in no time, Cas sliding Dean’s Ray-Ban’s on his face for him before placing a soft kiss on his mouth and settling under Dean’s arm on the long seat in the front of the boat. 

The boat kicks ass, Dean can’t get over how awesome it is. It has built in coolers, stocked to the brim thanks to Sarah and Sam who were preparing the boat all morning while Dean and Cas were messing around. They owe them a turn getting things ready. Sarah’s already scolded them for apologizing, telling them both to just enjoy the day. 

So, they do. They laugh and joke with the other couple, all while tilting their faces to the sun to soak it in. Dean preens when Cas nudges him up so he can smear sunscreen over Dean’s shoulders. He pulls off his tank top and loves the appreciative hum from Cas just behind him, his hands flexing against Dean’s back as he rubs more of the lotion into Dean’s skin. 

“I’m going to kiss every single new freckle on your skin tonight, Dean,” he murmurs into Dean’s ear. Dean turns his head slightly.

“How will you be able to tell?” He’s curious because he has so many. 

“You may be right,” Cas concedes. “I may have to kiss them all.” The excitement is clear in his voice. Dean chuckles and drops his head down, Cas’ hand sliding to massage there. 

“You were right about the massage oil,” he tells Dean, who snaps his head up. 

“Hey, Sammy,” he barks out. Sam looks at him from behind the wheel of the boat, tipping his sunglasses down to make sure Dean sees his raised eyebrow. “There a Farmer’s Market around here?” 

“There’s one every Friday night in town,” he answers. 

“And one on Thursday’s at noon,” Sarah reminds him. “We can go tomorrow,” She suggests. “Are you looking for anything special?” 

“Honey.”

“Massage oil.”

They answer at the same time. Sam’s eyes go dead and he shakes his head at his brother and pushes his sunglasses back up. Sarah throws her head back and laughs. “We can all walk in and Sam and me can stay for lunch, let you guys get back and try your… honey,” Sarah says with a raised eyebrow pointed at them. 

Cas flushes and Dean roars with laughter. Damn, he really likes this chick. She’s gonna keep Sam on his toes, bless her. Sam responds with another shake of his head. “We’ll be at the cove soon.” 

Dean settles back, happy to let Cas continue to lotion him up. He takes the bottle out of Cas’ hands and returns the favor, loving the way Cas’ hard muscles rolls under his hands. Dean wants to see the way he moves when Dean is—  

“Dean!” Sam sounds irate and Cas is poking his side. 

“What, Sam, sorry!” Dean atones, trying not to sour the general mood with his daydreams. This is Cas’ fault; he’s damn distracting. 

“I need your help throwing anchor here before we drift too far from that rock over there,” Sam gestures towards their left where a flat rock sits. On the other side of the boat, the shore is a quick swim away. Cas is already walking to the back of the boat to help Sarah get out snacks while the brother’s secure their anchor, Dean having to slip into the clear water to pull the rope away from the boat, taking them a little deeper so they can dive off the back too. The water is crystal clear; Dean can see where the anchor lands and buries itself in the sand. 

Sam tosses another from the other side and Dean swims over to check it, only climbing up and out of the water when he’s satisfied they’re secured. Cas stands there with a towel open for him, wrapping it around Dean’s shoulders with a kiss. Sam hands him a cold beer for the assist. 

It’s a perfect day. Dean knows what he’s talking about, only having experienced one or two of these before now. Dean  _ knows _ it's perfect when he watches Cas swim through the crystal clear water, watches him climb up the ladder on the back of the boat, water sliding down his cut body, every firm line glistening in the sun, crystal drops sparkling and dripping from the tips of his dark curls and he’s fucking beautiful and Dean doesn’t have a better word for it because there  _ isn’t  _ a word for how incredible Cas is, for how he makes Dean feel by just standing there existing. 

Dean is so,  _ so,  _ in love. 

The day stays on track, proving its perfection over and over in the way Cas and Sarah click and how, at some point, Cas and Sam end up on the shore sitting together, both of them wearing smiles that put  _ Dean _ at ease because he recognizes both grins for what they are; Cas’ being tinged with relief and Sam’s being amused with the company he’s keeping. It’s something Dean’s been watching for, for months. 

Perfect day. 

Sam cuts the engine halfway back to the house after an awesome steak dinner on the Nevada side of the lake, all of them full and turned lazy by the rolling waves and the falling sun. Cas is sketching, one arm propped on Dean’s bent knee as he draws, Dean rubbing a lock of Cas’ hair between his fingers as he watches him. 

It’s shockingly quiet when the engine dies and Cas glances up, the last rays of the sun catching in his hair. He smiles gently before turning his attention back to his drawing. Dean digs his digital camera and Cas’ Leica out of their bag, leaving the Leica in his lap as he takes a few practice shots with the digital. 

He’s caught Sam’s attention. Him and Sarah are sitting opposite them,  Sarah resting between Sam’s legs and watching the sun set. Her eyes drift between Dean and Cas too. 

Dean kind of ignores them when he looks through the viewfinder of the Leica to frame the shot of Cas he’s trying to get. The sun isn’t on his side, setting fast, but Dean thinks he’s got it. He nudges Cas with his foot and Cas looks up, Dean already pointing the camera to his face. He watches Cas’ face soften and his lips tilt into a smile. The light is perfect, highlighting Cas’ sharp cheekbones and smooth jawline and Dean thinks he found the origin of the term “Golden Hour” because it must have been named after Cas. 

He takes the picture and the edge of Cas’ mouth quirks one more time before he’s drawing again. This is an old routine of theirs now, Cas used to being in Dean’s viewfinder.

“Why do you have two cameras?” 

Cas looks up again when Sam’s question breaks the moment. There’s no accusation behind his inquiry, just curiosity and Cas smiles again before he looks back to his drawing, leaving Dean alone to share his budding hobby with his little brother because Cas is the only one Dean’s confided in about wanting to share this with Sam but not really knowing how. 

It’s a perfect day because Dean’s spending time with his brother and the girl Dean’s pretty sure Sam loves and Cas has made him comfortable sharing things with Sam he never has and that in itself is pretty damn special to Dean.

Him and his little brother talk about photography the whole way back to the house. Turns out, Sam took a photography class Freshman Year and Dean never knew. 

Cas holds his hand and rests his head on Dean’s shoulder when he loses the light, content to listen to the brothers talk, someone for Dean to lean on even when he doesn’t realize he was doing it until they had to get back on land. 

They shower together for the second time that day except it’s with purpose, cleaning the lake and the sun from their skin, happy to kiss under the spray and have that be enough, both of them looking forward to the soft sheets waiting for them on the other side of the wall. 

Dean learns more about perfection, finding it in Cas’ arms in between layers of cool cotton, their feet tangled together, Cas’ hand on Dean’s naked hip, both of them too lazy to put on clothes again. It’s in Cas’ breath, warm against his chest and in the heat of Cas’ hand that’s splayed over Dean’s stomach. 

Dean buries his nose in Cas’ hair and closes his eyes, tightening his hold on the man in his arms and hoping like hell he doesn’t lose this.

It’s a perfect day because he’s fuckin’ in love and listening to Cas snoring softly against his chest and he’s not trying to be needy but Dean’s really gonna need Cas to love him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Harlem](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVOUTkFkMNU) \- New Politics
> 
>  
> 
> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
> 


	16. Chapter 16

Dean puts the finishing touches on his burgers, sliding the last of the toasted buns onto the platter, their inside just the right amount of golden brown from his buttered pan. Cas is hovering, has been ever since Dean tried to kick him out of the kitchen so he could finish dinner, Cas refusing and insisting it was their dinner to put on so Dean has to let him help. 

“I thought it was your job to look cute while I cook,” Dean teases, brushing a kiss to Cas’ lips. He’s sitting on the countertop, eating the french fries Dean made from scratch and he tastes like rosemary and sea salt. “Can you grab the plates and some fresh beers?” 

“And be cute at the same time?” Cas jumps off the counter, eager to have a job. “Watch me multi-task, Dean.” 

Dean throws his head back and laughs, shaking it as he picks up the platter to follow Cas outside. Sam and Sarah are laughing together at the patio table, white twinkle lights hanging above them, the sun just having dipped below the horizon. Cas slides into the seat and grins at the couple, passing out beers and helping Dean plate the burgers and fries. Dean can’t help his smile. Cas’ presses against him, thigh to shoulder and Dean thinks back to the first time Cas sat at his side, that first morning at Weavers. 

Cas still wears the same glasses, except now Dean can tell this is his extra pair he keeps at Dean’s. There’s a smudge of blue paint on the frame from the paint they used for Cas and Gabe’s roof deck they’ve been working on renovating. 

Dean remembers how hot Cas was, right from the start and how impressed Dean was when he used his art to give Dean his number. Now, Dean knows how much of himself Cas puts into his art and how that simple drawing was Cas’ way of taking a huge chance on Dean.

He hopes it’s paid off.

Cas turns to him, his eyes soft and smiling, and he presses a warm palm to Dean’s face and that’s when Dean realizes he’s been staring and his cheeks warm. Cas’ smile spreads across his face and he kisses Dean, something sweet and reassuring. 

_ Thank fuck for Starbucks renovations. _

Dean grins back and ducks his head as he turns towards their hosts with a sheepish grin. Sarah’s eyes dance but her face falls when she sees Sam who is clearly annoyed with his brother. Sam notices her and frowns and they communicate silently before Sam’s face softens into something apologetic and then Sarah leans over to kiss him, a lock of Sam’s long hair covering their faces. 

Whatever they said to each other without saying a word must have been good because Sam’s smiling as he takes a big bite of his burger. Dean’s spent most of his life trying to get Sam to do that with just a look. He’s gonna have to remind Sam again that Sarah’s a keeper.

Another thing Cas did besides look cute while Dean cooked is the dishes, so cleanup is minimal. Cas gathers everything, insisting Dean stay at the table with his brother while he takes the plates inside. Dean doesn’t fight too much, and he kisses Cas thanks before he goes inside. 

Sam has switched to smirking at Dean so he tries to ignore him while he pulls Cas’ smoking kit from below the bench. 

“It’s y’alls night to relax so, here we go,” Dean says as he takes out the bong Cas brought. Sam’s eyes widen, it’s a bigger piece than they used the other night and Dean chuckles. “Don’t worry Sammy, it’s not gonna hurt you.” 

Cas rejoins them with a tray in his hands holding four cups of tea arranged in a circle. The honey they bought earlier sits in its jar in the middle. It thrilled Cas to find lavender honey at the street market and, at the same stand, lavender massage oil. Despite permission granted to head back to the house alone, they opted to stay for lunch instead enjoying sandwiches at a local brewery. 

The massage oil is tucked away in Dean’s nightstand, waiting upstairs for them to go to bed.

Cas kisses the top of Dean’s head before he sits and takes the bong from Dean to finish packing the bowl. “Is everyone comfortable with this?” 

_ Cas is the most polite human on this entire planet. _

Sarah’s already holding her hands out for the first hit and it must help to see her so eager because Sam relaxes, his shoulders falling as he waits his turn after Sarah. Dean’s happy to see him at ease. 

Sarah takes a hit, confidently lighting the bowl and inhaling, not even bothered by the smoke at all. Cas’ turns wide eyes toward Dean and they both fight back a laugh. Sam looks—Sam’s face is doing a lot and Dean’s eyes dart back to Cas so he doesn’t miss it. Sam’s face is going from shocked to confused to—ew ok, Sam’s enjoying it now and Dean’s  _ not _ interested in seeing that. Cas finally laughs at that when Dean tilts his head up so his eyes can look anywhere else. He leans into Dean and pulls him by the chin to kiss, distracting him. 

Dean sinks into Cas’ kiss just enough to forget about Sam for a minute and just enjoy the warmth of his mouth. Sam coughing his lungs up pulls them apart, Dean shaking his head as he takes the pipe away from his brother. 

“Amateur hour,” Dean chides as he takes his own hit, the weed tickling his throat just right so he lets out a small cough when he exhales. Sam flips him off as Sarah rubs his back and laughs at them both. 

Dean hears the slide of the glass bowl as Cas pulls it out of the pipe to breathe in all the lingering smoke and he turns in time to see Cas exhale, the white smoke leaving his mouth in a trail. Dean wants to lick those lips. 

_ Fuck, this might be a little strong for present company.  _

Cas places the pipe in the middle of the table, available to whoever wants more. He lolls his head over to Dean’s shoulder and threads their hands together. 

The group talks about their plans for the next day, their planned date night. Sam and Sarah are going to a show at the Hard Rock Casino— there’s a comic performing they both like—so they’ll be back late. Dean and Cas are staying in, planning to make dinner together and maybe take a walk into town after. 

Dean’s been wrestling with the idea of telling Cas he loves him tomorrow. He wants everything to be right and yeah, he knows his goal was sex but now it feels cheapened by his revelation, like trying to push them along will lessen things somehow. 

He needs to talk to Cas about it. 

For now, he’s going to enjoy his buzz and the way Cas’ eyes light up as him and Sarah talk about art and her family's business while Sam’s attention wanders to the sky before he slowly ambles out of his seat, intent on getting more food suddenly. 

He waves off Dean’s offer to help and comes back with a few more burgers, all warmed up, a bag of potato chips under his arm and a scowl on his face. 

“Why the sourpuss, you eat a lemon?” Dean asks. 

“There were no more fries,” Sam all but pouts. 

That’s impossible, Dean knows he didn’t put them all on the platter when they left the kitchen so—He turns his gaze on Cas who is trying hard not to look at them. 

Dean looks back at his brother. “Cas ate them all,” he says as he hooks a thumb over his shoulder with a shrug. 

“They were delicious,” Cas protests, like the fact he ate the rest of the fries when he went to clean up wasn’t his fault. He leans in, his breath hot on Dean’s ear. “My honeybee is an excellent cook.” 

Dean preens for a minute before Sam snorts out a laugh. “Honeybee!” 

“What are you laughing about mister? You call me Sar-bear when you’ve had too much to drink,” Sarah interjects before she gives Sam what could only be described as a  _ look. _

“Ok, sorry you love-bees,” he jokes. Dean shakes his head. His brother is the most unfunny stoner. Cas is giggling though and Dean has no choice but to lean in and snuffle his hair, pressing a kiss to Cas’ temple. 

“Enough outta you, Sasquatch,” Dean grumbles before he grabs the pipe for another hit. He’s exhaling and passing it to Cas when Sam responds, his mouth full of cheeseburger.

“These are really—” he swallows. “Really good Dean. When did you learn how to cook like this? All you used to cook me was mac and cheese when we were little.” 

Dean palms the back of his neck. Leave it up to his stoned little brother to start talking about their childhood. 

“What did you put in there once? Marshmallow fluff?” Sam shakes his head. “I can’t believe Dad even left enough money for that.” 

“You thought it was exotic,” Dean says softly, thinking about all the times he had to come up with something creative to feed Sam because his dad was passed out drunk or worse, just gone. 

Cas looks at him sharply and he replies with a little shake of his head. Dean can’t encourage Sam to open this can of worms, not tonight. Not until Dean’s talked to Cas about how they grew up. The lines around Cas’ face soften as he reads Dean’s expression. 

“If I hadn’t watched him make them for me the first time, I’d have thought they came from a five-star restaurant,” Cas confesses. “It was the first night we had dinner with Max and Alicia, remember Dean?” 

Dean smiles. That was a fun night, Max and Alicia coming over to hang out. Dean cooked dinner and the four of them talked late into the night about photography, art, music, yoga. It was after that Alicia started going to classes with Cas, the two of them becoming fast friends. Dean remembers feeling like a real, honest to goodness, couple for the first time that night; Cas tucked under his arm and being charming and wonderful with his friends, much like he’s doing tonight with Sam and Sarah. 

Dean loves him— _ has _ loved him, he’s realizing with every trip down memory lane. 

He squeezes Cas’ shoulder and nods, happy to let him continue. Dean’s thankful for Cas’ ability to read him and his practiced skill of deflection. 

Cas leans in towards the other couple, happy to take the stage as he goes on about that dinner, moving to other places they’ve eaten and the different meals Dean’s cooked them. Cas’ tone takes on a hint of pride and it’s heavy with enthusiasm and Dean is lulled in by it, feeling warm and familiar about the way Cas is talking about him, even if it makes his cheeks hot under all the attention. 

Dean realizes with a start that Cas is talking about him the way he talks about his bridge. About his art.

Cas is talking about him like he does when he loves something. 

Joy wells up inside him and burns behind his eyes and fuck, he’s not gonna cry. Dean doesn’t even want to allow himself the hope, just in case it’s not true. They’ve got a good fucking thing here and he’s pretty sure Cas is happy and maybe that’s what this is, his enjoyment of their trip so far bubbling over and into this conversation. 

Dean blinks back the moisture in his eyes and tightens his grip on Cas’ shoulder, making Cas turn to him with shining eyes as he goes on. 

“You’ll both have to come up to the city soon and Dean can make his fried chicken—Oh!” Cas pauses to think. “Maybe when we’re done with the roof!” He looks at Dean with an excited gleam in his eye. “We can have everyone over for dinner to check it out. What do you think?” he asks Dean. 

Dean looks into Cas’ earnest face and he knows he’ll never be able to deny him anything. He doesn’t want to, either. 

“Guess we better get to work on finishing,” Dean replies, his voice a little gritty from fighting back the tears that still linger in the back of his throat. Cas’ joy blooms across his face and it’s like watching the sunrise. 

He can’t help but pull Cas to him and press a kiss to his forehead. 

Sarah’s smiling at them and shaking her head, covering her mouth when a yawn takes over. “Oh, excuse me, it’s been a long day and now this,” she gestures at the pipe. “I’m taking one more hit and then it’s my bedtime. Did you want more, love?” 

Sam blushes and sneaks a look at Dean who smirks at him and mouths, “love!” at his bright red brother. Dean makes his smile warm and Sam relaxes before he answers Sarah with a nod of his head. 

“One more,” Sam replies and waits for Sarah to finish her turn and doing much better this time around, only coughing once. 

“I think we should head up too, don’t you, Dean?” Cas hand creeps over Dean’s thigh under the table and his fingers slide to Dean’s inner thigh, squeezing lightly. He’s less than an inch from Dean’s dick and he smiles when Dean squirms in his seat. 

“Yup,” Dean answers, his voice a little on the high side. “Why don’t you two go inside, let me and Sammy clean up.” Dean needs to have a word with him, brother to brother. 

They watch their significant others walk inside, Sarah hooking her arm through Cas’ as they go in. Cas gives Dean a small glance over his shoulder as they enter the house and Dean returns his glance with a smile. 

Sam chuckles beside Dean as he gathers the now empty tea cups, stacking them back on the tray Cas brought outside. 

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Sam asks after a moment. 

Dean looks up at him and Sam’s looking at him, eyes wide and expectant. Dean scowls, thinking there’s no way Sam is bringing this up again, his insane theory about Cas. He’s confused because everything about this trip has made him think Sam’s gotten to know Cas better so why the hell would he still—  

“You’re in love with him.” Sam looks pleased with himself. “I called it, right after you guys started dating.”

Well, that’s not what Dean’s expecting. 

Brother’s still a smug bastard though.

“Look, Sammy—” Dean’s shaking his head when Sam cuts him off.   

“Don’t lie to me, Dean! I can see it in the way you look at him.” Sam pushes his hair off his forehead. 

“Man, that’s what I want to talk to you about.” Dean’s losing his patience. If Sam would just shut up and let him talk, Dean could tell him he was right. Not in those exact words—He doesn’t need Sam thinking he’s  _ too  _ smart. 

“I’m getting really fed up with your bitch faces, dude.” Dean levels his gaze at his brother. “Every time I’m over here kissin’ on Cas, you’re making your dirty diaper face. What’s up, man?” 

Sam sighs and turns to go inside, Dean following him and waiting for his answer. He sets the kit on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“I’m sorry, Dean, really. Sarah got on me about it too.” Sam at least looks sheepish. “I didn’t notice I was doing it, I’m just not used to seeing you with someone! And kissing them.” He makes one of the faces in question. “It’s gross. But also, it’s great to see you happy. So  _ I guess _ , I’d rather keep seeing that.” He switches over to his puppy dog eyes, the one’s Dean’s been falling for his whole life. “Forgive me?” 

Dean sighs. 

“Put those puppy dog eyes away.” Dean raises his eyebrows to accept the apology and Sam beams. “Now I’d appreciate it if you’d stop lookin’ at us so weird all the time and let us enjoy each other for a damn minute.”

Sam’s radiating smugness now. 

“And yeah, maybe you were right. Don’t even think about opening your pie hole about it, either. I haven't told him.” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “There’s the Dean Winchester I know.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“You never wanna talk about your feelings, Dean, this isn’t news.” 

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Really, man? That’s what you think?” 

“When was the last time?” 

“Oh I dunno, the last time you were lecturing me out on our run. And I talk about shit with Cas all the time.”

“So you tell Cas stuff you won’t tell me?” Sam’s pissed and Dean’s gonna have to explain how this works to him. 

“Listen, Sam, you’re my little brother and I’d die for you. There’s no one else I’d put before you. But yeah, sometimes there’re things you discuss with family and then there’s stuff you discuss with your partner.” He ignores the shade of red Sam’s turning. “You gonna stand there and tell me you  _ don’t _ confide in Sarah about things you won’t tell me?” 

Sam looks like he’s getting it, recognition crossing his face. Dean relaxes. 

“It’s not that I don’t  _ want _ him to know, either.” Dean taps his fingers on the countertop. “Just not sure what I’d do if he didn’t feel the same.” He laughs and he knows it's awkward but that’s also really hard for him to say out loud because now it’s out there and it’s possible and he might have just jinxed himself. 

Sam throws his head back and laughs. Which is really fucking rude, actually. 

_ What the fuck is happening?  _

Dean doesn’t  _ want _ to hit his brother but he will. 

“Now who’s making a dirty diaper face?” Sam bends in half, grabbing his middle from laughing so hard. “Dude! DUH! He feels the same, he looks at you with even bigger heart eyes than you put out there. How could you think—”  

Sam finally notices that Dean isn’t laughing and he stops and straightens up. 

Sam swears softly. “How could you think Cas isn't head over heels for you, man?” He clasps Dean on the shoulder.

Dean sucks in a shuddering breath. “See, five years ago, I would have told you no chick flick moments. Come here,” Dean pulls Sam to him for a hug, big friggin’ giant, slapping him on the back before they let go. “Thanks, Sammy. I hope you're right.”

“If I’m not, promise you won't arrest me if I punch him,” Sam says, almost cheerful about it.  _ Dick _ .  “You're the best guy I know and anyone who doesn’t see that is an idiot who doesn’t deserve you, anyway.”

Dean smiles and ruffles his hair, digging in  _ just  _ like he knows Sam hates. “See you in the morning, little brother.”

“Night, Dean,” Sam calls after him as Dean heads upstairs. The light is still on in their room and he pauses at the door, not knowing what's behind it. 

Everything feels bigger, now that he’s admitted it, and to fucking  _ Sammy _ of all people. If his annoyingly receptive little brother is to be believed, Cas might love him back. 

_ Cas might love Dean back.  _

The possibility makes his stomach clench, overwhelming joy and terrifying doubt war inside him. That annoying voice in the back of Dean’s head, the one that sounds like his dad reminding him that he rarely gets to have nice things, let alone keep them. And Cas is the nicest thing to ever happen to him. 

Cas might love him back and Dean needs to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
> 


	17. Chapter 17

Dean pushes open their bedroom door to find Cas sprawled across their bed. He’s in his white boxers, laying on his stomach, his feet in the air, what looks like miles of skin, bronze from hours spent together under the sun. Dean remembers Cas’ hair being calm downstairs but since then, it’s gone wild, probably after Cas ran water through it when he got ready for bed. Dean wants to sink his hands into it. 

Cas is reading, the book open between the long fingers of one hand, the other hand holding his head up as he reads. He looks up when Dean opens the door, wide blue eyes behind his black glasses lighting up. Cas’ whole face brightens and the corners of his mouth tug into a smile before he puts his bookmark in and closes his book, putting it to the side so he can sit up. 

He’s fucking  _ beautiful. _

_ And he might love Dean back. _

Dean licks his lips and approaches the bed as Cas shuffles on his knees to the edge. 

He holds his hands out. “Hello, Dean,” he says with a shy smile. “Did you and Sam get everything cleaned up ok?” 

Dean knows what Cas means and Cas knows Dean well enough to form his inquiry like this. It’s fucking nice to have someone know him so well. He takes Cas’ hands and pulls them together. 

“Everything’s good. Real good,” Dean says with his own tentative smile. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to Cas’ shoulder, his skin cool under Dean’s lips. 

Cas squeezes his hands before he lets one go to cup Dean’s face, making their eyes meet. Dean stares into pools of cobalt blue and he lets himself get lost in them. Cas breaks apart their staring contest with a chaste kiss to Dean’s mouth. 

“Dean,” Cas breathes Dean’s name out against his lips. “I think we should try out the new massage oil.” 

_ Fuck yeah. _

“Hell yeah, babe, lie down and get comfy and I’ll—”  

Cas cuts him off with another kiss and a shake of his head. “No, I want  _ you _ to lie down. You cooked all night—don’t argue—and now I want to do something for my amazing boyfriend.” He stares at Dean and tilts his head. “Okay?”

“No—Cas, come on, you don’t need to do that,” Dean stops shaking his head long enough to catch Cas’ narrowed gaze. 

First of all, as awesome as that sounds, Dean’s plan was to get  _ his _ hands on Cas. Second, Cas deserves a massage way more than Dean, considering the stress he’s been under with his deadlines so it should definitely be the other way around here. He wants to argue back that Cas did just as much to help with dinner but they both know it’s not true so that argument is weak. 

“Dean, this is not up for discussion,” Cas’ tone is firm. It’s fuckin’ hot.

Dean swallows thickly, gives up and gives in. Cas wants to rub him down that bad, fine by Dean. He’ll take his turn tomorrow. 

“Have it your way, sweetheart.” Dean spreads his hands out. “Where do you want me?” 

Cas’ face relaxes into a smile. He points towards the dresser. “I packed a bowl just for you so if you could just step out on the balcony and take care of it, I’ll get the room ready.” He bounds off the bed. 

_ Get the room ready? _

Whatever Cas is up to, Dean is into. He does what he’s told, winking at Cas as he takes the pipe out to the balcony. With a pat on his ass, Cas slides the door shut behind him and closes the curtains too. Sneaky. 

There’s a cool breeze coming off the lake and it’s quiet, Dean can hear the water lapping against the side of the shoreline. He can hear the rustle of wings, probably a bird by the water and the sound of someone laughing nearby, another family of vacationers no doubt. The vibe here is incredibly relaxed, people respect their neighbors and keep it down. Sound echoes so easily off the water, it doesn’t take much to disturb the surrounding houses. 

Dean stands there in the quiet, smoking the bowl and enjoying the way the high rolls down his body, already making him more relaxed. His mind drifts to Cas’ strong hands, slick and rubbing Dean’s muscles, making Dean— 

Cas clears his throat, interrupting Dean’s thoughts and impending boner. “Ready?” 

Dean takes the last hit from the pipe and steps up to Cas, pulling him in for a kiss to shotgun the smoke into his mouth. Cas takes it, not even missing a beat, exhaling and gazing at Dean through dark eyes. He steps aside so Dean can enter their bedroom, Cas’ hand attaching itself to Dean’s ass. 

“Whoa,” Dean says, stopping short. Cas has transformed their room into something warm and intimate. It almost reminds Dean of Cas’ bedroom at home and Dean misses that space for a minute. 

He’s unpacked some scarves from home and draped them over the lampshades, casting the room in muted blue light. There’s music playing, something acoustic with a soft guitar, the volume barely a hum. All the blankets are pulled from the bed but the pillows remain, ready for Dean to sink into. The bottle of lavender massage oil sits, waiting on the nightstand. 

Cas curls a hand around Dean’s waist. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, Officer.” 

Dean nods and lets Cas strip him, first pulling Dean’s shirt over his head, his hands trailing down Dean’s sides to help Dean out of his shorts. Cas’ breath catches a little when he realizes Dean isn’t wearing any underwear.

Dean’s cock is semi-hard, Cas’ attention enough to have a slow burn starting in Dean’s stomach, causing blood to pool in his groin. 

Cas’ hot breath over Dean’s shoulder as he walks around him makes the heat in his gut flare. 

“Please, get comfortable,” Cas gestures to the bed when Dean doesn’t look away. A smile twitches in the corner of his mouth. “I’m going to take care of you, Dean.” 

Dean nods, his trust in Cas unquestionable. He settles himself down on his stomach, the sheet cool under his heated skin. Dean’s cock is resting between the bed and the crease of his hip and as he rustles himself into position, the friction is perfect. Cas smirks down at him and swats Dean on the ass before he helps him get comfy in the pillows, pushing one under Dean’s chest to support his neck while Dean pulls one under his head. 

“You're good?” 

Dean hums his contentment, closing his eyes and smiling when he can feel Cas dip into the mattress beside him. Knees settle on both sides of Dean’s hips as Cas straddles him, resting on the backs of Dean’s thighs. Cas’ weight is comforting and Dean shudders when Cas blankets his body over his back. He runs his hands down Dean’s arms as he captures the curve of Dean’s neck between his lips, his mouth hot, his hair tickling Dean’s cheek. 

Dean sucks in a breath and Cas smiles against him. His chin rubs against Dean’s shoulder and fuck, the stubble from the last few days is rough and dragging against him in just the right way and god bless vacation. 

Dean wants to feel that burn between his legs. 

He’s distracted by the click of the cap as Cas opens the massage oil. Dean waits, tense now as he hears Cas rub his hands together, the smell of lavender hitting his senses. He takes a deep breath, exhaling when Cas’ strong hands caress his back. They’re warm from the oil and cut smooth lines across his shoulders. 

“Your tan is coming in nicely,” Cas mentions. “So many new freckles.” His hands dig into the muscles of Dean’s back. 

“If I can recall, someone promised to kiss them all,” Dean mumbles into his pillow. He moves his legs so his thighs shift under Cas. 

Cas hands slide down as he sucks in a breath. His hips twitch and Dean can feel Cas’ hardness on the back of his thighs. 

“You have quite the memory, Officer,” Cas says, his voice tight and low, soaked in need. His fingers dig into Dean’s lower back, Cas’ thumbs pressing into his tailbone in the space above his ass. The oil helps Cas’ palms slide over Dean’s skin like silk between them. His blood rolls under his skin, and he takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart. Cas is touching him with such tenderness, murmuring sweet things that make Dean’s ears heat up and again, tears burn behind his eyes. 

Cas sighs as his hands sweep up Dean’s back again, kneading and smoothing over the planes of Dean’s back. “You’re so exquisite, Dean,” Cas’ breath ghosts over Dean’s ear where Cas has leaned in to him. “I want to paint you, just like this, when we return home,” he sucks the tip of Dean’s ear into his mouth and Dean forgets how to breathe. “Would that be agreeable?” 

It takes Dean’s brain a second to reboot. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out. Dean lifts his head to capture Cas’ mouth before it moves away again but he fails, Cas choosing that moment to slide further down Dean’s body. 

Cas pours more oil into his hands and runs them down Dean’s legs, one at a time, massaging the muscles in Dean’s thighs, following the curve of Dean’s bow legs to squeeze Dean’s calves. He settles himself between Dean’s open legs, lifting one foot up to run his thumb along Dean’s arch and his grip is strong as he rubs Dean’s foot. 

He stills for a moment before Dean feels something else, something so unexpected, he has to open his eyes to confirm what’s really happening. He looks over his shoulder and finds Cas holding his foot, his mouth running up the inner arch, his teeth dragging against the sensitive skin. 

Dean moans, long and loud and he can’t look at Cas anymore. He has to shift his hips, his somehow harder erection getting more uncomfortable to lie on. Dean’s never had anyone touch his feet let alone do what Cas is doing and fuck, it’s hot. Every press of Cas’ lips sends shivers up Dean’s spine and Cas chuckles at how much Dean is squirming. 

“It just tickles,” Dean grumbles. 

“Mmmhmm,” Cas answers, allowing Dean to preserve his humility. “We can explore your little foot fetish another day.” 

_ So much for humility. _

Dean responds by burying his face into the pillow.

He’s hard as a rock and leaking when Cas drops his other foot back to the bed, having given it just as much attention as the first one. He works his hands back up Dean’s legs but stops when he reaches the top of Dean’s thighs, his hands cupping the curve of Dean’s ass.  

Dean’s breath quickens and Cas runs his palm over Dean’s lower back to soothe him. He uses his thumbs to massage circles into the globes of Dean’s ass and it’s making Dean crazy, his hips twitching, Dean willing them to stop. 

Dean’s lost in Cas’ touch and he startles when Cas is whispering in his ear.

“Having trouble relaxing, Dean?” Cas says, his voice thick. “May I try another technique?” 

_ Fuuuuck. _

Dean turns to catch Cas’ mouth and this time he succeeds. He sucks Cas’ lower lip between his teeth and Cas groans around his lips, the sound shooting straight to Dean’s cock. Cas indulges him for a moment but pulls away, much to Dean’s frustration, leaning over to get into the nightstand. Dean shuts his eyes when he sees Cas pull the lube out and drop it on the bed. 

“Just remember to breathe,” Cas reminds him before he drops back down, his hands back on Dean’s ass. He presses his weight into his palms and leans down to mouth at Dean’s lower back, nipping and sucking at the thin skin there. Dean’s throat is thick and he chokes on quiet moans he can’t seem to stop. 

Cas’ hands slide down again and they hook around Dean’s thighs. He squeezes before he’s using his own thighs, now pressed between Dean’s legs, to push them open wider, his hands pulling Dean open slowly in a deep stretch of his hips. The natural curve of Dean’s body makes his hips lift, exposing him to Cas.

Dean whimpers when he hears Cas breathe deeply through his nose.

“Fuck,” Cas whispers above him and it makes Dean whine, the want inside him snapping under the sound of Cas’ hopeless and wrecked voice. His brain hardly has a moment to process that noise before Cas’ mouth is on him, the scratch of the stubble on Cas’ cheeks rubbing against the inside of Dean’s ass, exposed by Cas spreading Dean apart. 

“Cas,” Dean chokes out when Cas kitten licks around Dean’s rim before spearing him with his long tongue. He works it against Dean’s pucker, pushing and pressing with the tip of his tongue. He alternates long flat licks from where Dean’s skin stretches, his balls hanging heavy in the crease of his legs, his cock brushing against the sheets in a maddening drag against his sensitive head. Cas has his hips off the bed only far enough to torture Dean. 

They’ve never— _ no one’s ever _ —done this to Dean. He’s seen it in porn and fuck, he’s always wondered but holy shit, this? Dean’s losing his mind. 

Every expletive Dean knows is racing through his brain, spilling out of his mouth as Cas eats him out, the sound turning filthy as it gets wetter and wetter. Cas is getting sloppy as he licks Dean open, his spit running down the creases of Dean’s thighs. Dean could come just listening to Cas moaning around his hole.

“Please, Cas,” Dean pants out, wishing he could see what it looks like with Cas’ tongue buried inside of him, his brain clouded by the wet slide of Cas’ lips against his rim as Cas sucks at the ring of muscle, loosening Dean up. 

Cas pulls away and Dean whines shamelessly, rocking his hips up to chase Cas’ mouth, wanting it back on him more than anything he’s ever wanted before. Dean can’t see shit, his face now buried into his arms but he can hear Cas moving behind him. He rolls his hips and Cas taps his hole once, sharp, and Dean stills. 

“Good boy,” Cas murmurs before his hands slide up the back of Dean’s legs again, spreading him open with his thumbs before he dives back in, kissing and sucking at Dean’s rim. “You taste so good, Dean, I could do this all night,” he breathes out against Dean’s hole. 

Cas slips a wet finger inside Dean, making him cry out into the pillow. 

“Ooh, Dean, we’re doing this when we get home, so I can wrench every sound and scream from you and you won’t have to stay quiet,” Cas’ words are hot against Dean’s exposed ass. 

“Yes, please,” Dean sobs are a whisper. Cas’ finger works its way inside him with gentle strokes and Dean writhes when Cas’ tongue joins it, working Dean open so he can slip another finger inside. Cas hums his approval when Dean’s body relents and the vibration feels like it’s inside his cock, making it spurt into the sheets. 

Dean digs his knees into the bed, working them under him so he can press back into Cas’ fingers, needing more, wanting Cas to fill him. 

“Do you want more, Dean?” Cas sounds strangled by want as Dean rocks his hips back into Cas’ palm. Two of his fingers are buried all the way inside of Dean and he’s using them to rub Dean’s walls, finally curling inside of Dean to hit the bundle of nerves he’s been dancing around. 

Dean’s gasp fills the room and Cas strokes the tips of his fingers along Dean’s balls as he slips a third finger inside of Dean. 

A low keen starts in Dean’s throat as Cas presses down on his lower back, pumping his fingers in and out of Dean in a slow rhythm. He straddles Dean’s leg so he can lean down and mouth at Dean’s shoulder. Dean continues to roll his hips with Cas’ encouragement. 

“Don’t stop Dean, you look so beautiful, fucking yourself on my fingers. Does it feel like I’m splitting you open?”

“Yeah, it’s so good, Cas.” 

Cas presses his lips to Dean’s ear. “Wait until it’s my cock.”

He crushes their mouths together and Dean’s coming, spilling into the sheets he’s already soaked, his ass clenching around Cas’ fingers while Cas works his tongue into Dean’s mouth as Dean pulses around him. He’s lost to it, ignoring when Cas pulls them apart to get back between Dean’s legs. 

“You’re incredible Dean, you make me feel so good,” Cas is breathless as he grips Dean by the hip before he pulls his fingers free from Dean. Dean is whimpering in his hold, his cock still pulsing between his legs. Cas kisses him again, his lips hot against Dean’s sensitive rim and Dean groans his name. 

“I’m going to come on you now, on your pretty pink hole, okay Dean?” Cas squeezes his hip and Dean can hear the hitch in his voice as he tries to keep it controlled. Dean pushes his ass up, incapable of forming words and wanting Cas to mark him. 

The first splashes of Cas’ release hit Dean’s ass, searing his skin. Cas groans out Dean’s name, something dripping with heat and need and it makes Dean’s heart clench. 

“Oh, fuck,” Cas mumbles as he thumbs at his come that’s now covering Dean’s ass. He lets the head of his cock press against Dean’s fluttering rim and Dean’s breath hitches. 

He wants Cas so bad and it would be so easy for him to slip inside Dean; he’s stretched open and it would be so good, he feels a flash of disappointment when Cas’s hands slide around Dean’s hips as he pulls Dean down onto the bed and into his arms. 

Cas lets them lay wrapped together for a moment before he gets up to retrieve a washcloth from the bathroom. He rolls Dean back to his stomach so he can wipe him down, humming appreciatively as he wipes the warm cloth over Dean’s ass. 

“Greedy,” Dean mumbles, getting a soft pinch to the back of his thigh that makes him chuckle. Dean watches with his head resting on his arms as Cas takes the washcloth back to the bathroom and then returns to putter around their room for couple minutes, opening the slider to the balcony to get a fresh breeze into the room. The gauzy curtains wrap around Cas’ bare legs and he laughs and pushes them away, his eyes twinkling in the low light of the room when he looks at Dean still spread across the bed. 

Dean is so in love. 

His post orgasm haze hits hard once it collides with his high and Dean is slow about moving over when Cas nudges him. Cas sets down his pipe and wraps Dean up in his arms with a laugh. “You’re useless, come here,” he says as he tugs Dean between his legs, hooking them around and across Dean’s thighs. Dean lets himself be a puddle in Cas’ lap and he rests his head in the crease of Cas’ hip so he can look up at him. 

Dean admires the cut of Cas’ jaw and thinks about biting it. Cas looks down his nose at Dean and raises an eyebrow. “How can you even be thinking about that right now?”

“How the fuck do you always know?” Dean hisses before he laughs. “Asshole.” 

Cas lights the bong with a smug grin and inhales, curling down to share the smoke with Dean. It heats the back of his throat before he blows it out. 

“We should sleep with the slider open, Sam’ll have a fit if the room smells like smoke.” 

Cas nods his agreement. “The breeze will be nice.”

They finish the bowl and Cas puts it on the nightstand before he buries his hands in Dean’s hair, threading his fingers through the long strands on top. Each tug rolls down Dean’s back and he’s drifting when Cas speaks. 

“Dean… what did Sam mean when he said he was surprised your dad left enough money for marshmallow fluff?” 

The question is innocent enough, but it’s enough to wake Dean up. Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair again when Dean stiffens. 

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s ok,” Cas whispers. 

“No, I do, it’s just—”   

It’s just what? This is Cas, this is the man he loves. He should know before he truly decides if he loves Dean back. 

“It’s kind of a long story,” he peers up at Cas, his profile sharp in the low light. 

“I’ve got nothing but time, honeybee,” Cas says with a kiss to Dean’s lips, fueling him with a small surge of confidence, enough to get him talking. He trails his hands along Cas’ calves and he begins his story. 

“We haven’t talked about our parents,” Dean starts, to confirm that Cas can’t blame him for the things he hasn’t shared yet. Cas nods and pushes the hair from Dean’s forehead. 

“My mom died in a—”  Dean needs a deep breath before he continues. “—in a house fire when I was four years old.”

Dean never talks about Mary Winchester. He has two pictures of her and a handful of memories, including the one from the night she died.

One of Cas’ hands drift out of his hair and down his neck to thumb at his collarbone. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Dean.” 

He rubs his cheek against Cas’ arm. “I remember it, the fire.”

“You were—”  

“Yeah,” Dean wants to chase away the alarm in Cas’ voice. “Fire started in the kitchen, under Sammy’s room, faulty gas line or somethin’.” His voice is straining against the knot in his throat. “All I remember is my dad shoving Sam in my arms and telling me to take him outside as fast as I could and not to look back.” 

_ Now, Dean, go! _

A tear slips down his cheek and Cas thumbs it away. 

“The whole upper floor was engulfed when I got outside. I remember the heat, the smell.” He closes his eyes, seeing it behind his eyelids like he does in his nightmares; the images of flames and darkness. “I remember Sam crying and I couldn’t get him to stop. I tried, Cas but—”  

Dean chokes back a sob and holds his breath, willing the tears back down. He takes a moment to compose himself. Dean never thinks of this, never lets himself remember. 

“He was only six months old. We lost pretty much everything and I swear Cas, my dad may as well have died in that fire too because he was dead inside. Used the insurance money to rent a place and he went through the motions for a couple years. I don’t remember much, probably because it wasn’t bad, not really. Not yet.” 

John still kept a job then even if Bobby admitted to paying their rent more often than not one night over beers before Dean left Kansas. He learned a lot about his dad that night, still none of it redeeming him in Dean’s eyes. 

“Sammy got old enough for school and it was like Dad gave up, like he’d been waitin’ for that moment so he didn’t have to pretend to be okay anymore. I was in fourth grade the first time he took off one night and didn’t come back for a week.” 

Cas’ hand clenches in Dean’s hair for just a second. 

“A fuckin’  _ week _ , Cas. I was ten years old for fuck’s sake,” he spits out bitterly. “I learned how to stretch a dollar pretty damn quick, you know.” 

“Why didn’t you call your uncle?” 

“That was for emergencies. And it wasn’t like that back then.” 

Cas hums like he knows that to be true. 

“Dad would tell me I had to take care of Sammy and be good and if I didn’t, Sammy might get taken away from us.” Dean recites John Winchester’s words back to Cas. “Watch out for your little brother, Dean.” His stomach clenches at the memory of the fear he used to live in every minute his dad would be gone. 

“Went on like that until I got to high school. He was gone from the middle of my freshman year to well into my sophomore year. I had to get a job, got a fake ID, got better at hustling pool.” His smile is weak. “I used to tell Sam that Dad was working somewhere offshore—it sounded exciting. I think he humored me as much as I tried to protect him. Kid was always too smart for his own good.” 

“I’d tell him Dad sent money all the time and if I had a good night hustling, I’d buy crazy toppings for his mac n cheese, stupid treats, you know? Anything to make the kid smile.” 

“You were a good big brother, Dean.”

“He was my responsibility. He’s always been.” Dean closes his eyes. “Sam’s the one that encouraged me to join the army. School’s never been my thing, but I didn’t want to leave him. He arranged to live with our uncle after I graduated, just so I didn’t worry.”

“Sounds like he was a good little brother, too.” 

“The best, Cas,” Dean says softly. 

“What happened when your dad got back?” 

Dean cringes. It was during that stretch of time without John that Dean and Victor became more than just best friends. And when John came back, he walked into the house to find them together on the couch. It wasn’t even anything salacious, they were just holding hands and sharing a blanket while they watched Happy Gilmore. 

John was drunk, always drunk, and he accused Dean of failing at the one thing he thought he was good at: taking care of Sam. After Victor left—not before making Dean swear to call him later that night—John laid into him, accusing him of being selfish, only caring about himself and what he wanted, not making Sam a priority. 

It was all wrong and Dean knew it and he tried to convince his dad, tried to show him that Sam was ok, that the bills were paid and the fridge had food and that he’d done it all to keep Sammy safe. He confessed to his dad about how him and his best friend figured out they meant more to each other and when disgust and fear crossed his dad’s face, Dean swears, he hadn’t felt heartbreak like that since his mom’s death. 

Dean tells all of Cas this in a soft voice and Cas listens, smoothing over Dean’s hair, pressing kisses to the top of his head. He thumbs at Dean’s cheek and he didn’t even realize he was still crying. 

“After all of that, he stayed for a month and left again. I’m sorry,” he says, his chuckle wet with unshed tears. “It’s stupid, I know.”

Dean can’t stand to stay in this position a moment longer; he needs more. He’s exhausted by the day, by the raw emotions coursing through him; love, fear, and the heartache that always accompanies him whenever he thinks about his mom. Dean twists up to reach Cas, Cas’ hands falling out of Dean’s hair as he moves. Cas slides his arms under Dean’s, accepting him as he changes positions, coming to rest in Cas’ embrace. 

“Dean, it’s not stupid, not at all.” Cas kisses his cheeks, still wet with tears. “Sam is a good man, and it sounds like that’s in thanks to you.” 

Dean shakes his head; he doesn’t deserve that kind of credit. Not after the shitty choices he made after Sam left for school. “Nah, I just made sure we both made it out of there, you know? I saved all my army money for Sam to use for school. Day he got accepted to Stanford was the proudest day of my life. He’s gonna be a kick ass lawyer one day.” 

Cas leans in to press a chaste kiss to Dean’s mouth. It feels like home, a comfort Dean feels like he’s always chasing. 

“Did you always want to be in law enforcement?” 

Dean shakes his head, shy now. “Uh, no, no when I ‘grew up’, I wanted to be a firefighter.” He’s never told anyone this. “A real hero, you know? When I joined the army, I wanted to go through their firefighting program.” Dean’s having trouble looking Cas in the eyes. “First day, they put us in a simulated fire and I—”  He closes his eyes now, because confessing yet another of his failures fuckin’ sucks. “I panicked Cas, it just—it took me right back there, you know? I didn’t even  _ think _ I’d react like that. Scared the shit out of me.”  

He opens his eyes to find Cas with his eyes squeezed shut too, his forehead wrinkled and his lips pressed in a thin line, anguish etched across every inch of his face. 

Fuck. Dean knew it was too much, first all this shit with his dad and now Cas knows Dean’s pretty much a coward, taking the easy way out by being a cop instead. Cas deserves better, no doubt. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispers into the space between them, like maybe it will be enough. 

Cas’ eyes fly open, the pain that was there completely vanished. The heat in his eyes flairs and he looks at Dean, his jaw set, determined. Cas’ hands clasp Dean’s face, his fingers digging into Dean’s hair, one thumb stroking Dean’s ear and the other stroking over his lips. 

“You do not owe me,  _ or anyone _ , an apology, do you understand me?” Cas’ voice trembles and he presses his mouth to Dean’s. Cas’ lower lip quivers against his before Cas sucks Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth. He tilts Dean’s head to deepen their kiss and Dean lets him, lets the ghosts of his past slip to the back of his mind, lets Cas distract him, reassure him, let him believe he’s not gonna lose all of this. 

Dean doesn’t answer Cas.

Instead, he drinks the bottle of water Cas brought him and lets Cas wrap them together, their blankets heavy over their bodies. All the lights are off and the night is quiet again, crickets calling out to each other, the moonlight spilling in through the sheer curtains that won’t protect them from the light of tomorrow. 

Dean closes his eyes and sighs when Cas kisses him again, keeping their lips close so they can brush together anytime, on purpose or not. When intended, Cas kisses his breath away and Dean forgets to care about anything but this moment in this bed, under this roof, with this man he loves so much it makes his head spin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
> 


	18. Chapter 18

His eyes flutter open and immediately, Dean can feel the change in the room. He doesn’t need to roll over to know that he’s alone in their bed. It’s still dark and the hands on Dean’s watch tell him it’s a little past three in the morning. A cool breeze blows in from the open door and it smells sweet, hints of pine and the freshness you can only find somewhere like this. 

Dean’s eyes want to close again, his body heavy under their blankets, comfortable amongst the pillows but his leg keeps stretching out to find Cas and Dean’s still disappointed when all he finds is cool sheets. He wants Cas next to him if he’s going to find peace tonight. 

He rolls out of bed and throws on a pair of shorts and a tank (fuckin’ communal space) before he grabs his laptop and the SD card from the digital camera, thinking he can get a head start on some editing, long as he’s awake.  

Dean creeps down the stairs, pausing when he hears a tinkle of laughter, far too high to belong to Cas. He’s surprised to find Cas and Sarah at the kitchen table, two mugs between them, tired smiles on their faces. 

“Hey you two, what’s goin’ on down here?” Dean asks. 

They both turn to the sound of his voice, Sarah with a soft smile and Cas looking embarrassed. 

“Insomniacs Club,” Sarah says wryly. 

Cas tries to smile. “You’ve interrupted our emergency meeting.” 

Dean dumps his laptop on the kitchen island and slides an arm around Cas’ shoulders to kiss the top of his head. He notices their mugs are empty, so he scoops them up. “Can I get y’all more tea?” 

“No more for me, thanks,” Sarah says as she stands. “I think that last cup did the trick.” She winks at Cas before she squeezes his hand resting on the table. 

He looks up at her and gives her a soft smile. “Thank you.” 

Dean runs his fingers up and down Cas’ arm. 

Sarah smiles at them both before she leans in to press a quick kiss to Dean’s cheek. He’s surprised but, it’s nice. Dean’s enjoyed getting to know her during their trip. 

“Night, guys.” She walks towards the hallway before turning and snapping her fingers. “Almost forgot, we’ll be gone by the time you wake up tomorrow—today.” She huffs a laugh. “Sam has a whole  _ plan.”  _ She waves her hand around with a fond smile. “Just didn’t want you to worry. Have a nice day tomorrow.” A suggestive wink and a smirk and she’s gone. 

“You too, Sarah, thanks,” Dean calls to her retreating back. 

_ Such a cool chick. _

Cas turns into him and rests his cheek against Dean’s chest. “Did you want more tea, babe?” Dean asks as he slides a hand into Cas’ hair. 

Cas nods against his chest and Dean leans down to press another kiss to the top of his head before he pulls back so he can look at Cas. “You okay?” 

“I’m sorry if I woke you.” 

Dean shakes his head. “Don’t,” he says, his voice soft. He kisses Cas’ soft mouth. “I can do some editing.” 

“You don’t have to—”  

“Cas, I  _ want _ to,” Dean reassures him. “I’m gonna make you another cup of tea.” 

Dean knows Cas’ eyes are on him as he moves around the kitchen, heating the water and preparing Cas’ tea. He fills the infuser with Cas’ favorite nighttime tea, pulling it from the pantry. 

“I didn’t know you brought that,” Cas says. Dean turns to see his face full of surprise. 

Dean shrugs. “Just in case.” 

He loves when Cas’ face melts into fondness, Dean thrilled to make Cas happy when he’s tired and frustrated from not being able to sleep. He adds two teaspoons of their new honey and Dean notices it’s already running low. They should go back to the farmers market tomor—  today and grab more to take home. 

He brings the steaming mug back to Cas and sets it down on the table so Cas can grab it when he’s ready. Cas’ hands wrap around Dean’s waist instead, ignoring the tea to pull Dean between his legs, tilting his face up so Dean can lean down and kiss him. Cas pulls back first, Dean leaning in to chase his lips. He pushes his forehead against Dean’s. “Can we go back to bed?” 

“We don’t have to, that’s not why I came down.” 

“I know, Dean,” Cas’ eyes are soft and lidded. “I’d just like to lie with you.” 

_ As if Dean could ever say no to that.  _

Dean scoops up the mug and pulls Cas up by the other hand. Cas gathers Dean’s stuff and Dean follows him upstairs. He abandons the laptop back on the dresser and puts Cas’ drink on his nightstand before he pulls Cas back into their bed. Dean turns on his bedside lamp, still covered by Cas’ scarves and it makes the room moody for them. Cas sighs when Dean pulls open their blankets to drag Cas in, wrapping Cas in his arms. 

He can feel it as Cas relaxes. His head is on Dean’s chest and their hands are twined together and Dean uses his other hand to run his fingers through Cas’ thick waves of hair. 

Cas’ breathing evens out, his toes twitching against Dean’s and Dean knows he’s asleep. Dean keeps playing with Cas’ curls and he considers their day tomorrow before he leans over and turns off the alarm. They were gonna go for a run in the morning but Dean thinks it would be nice to sleep in and take the pressure off the day. 

Their plan was a simple one: a run to watch the sunrise, breakfast, lazing around until noon when they were going to walk into town for lunch and Dean figures they can hit the street market then. After, back to the house for a lot of nothing until dinner. After that, Dean’s gonna tell Cas he loves him. 

_ You’re all in, Winchester. _

Dean listens in the quiet, the sound of Cas’ deep breaths, the rustle of the curtains in the breeze. The crickets have long gone to bed, replaced by frogs singing their throaty songs into the darkness. He squeezes Cas’ hand and closes his eyes to the dim blue light and it doesn’t take long for Dean to sleep, his mind finally at peace. 

***

Morning comes really fucking quick. The sun in his eyes isn’t pleasant and Cas is on the other side of their king size bed, curled against the light, his body protecting itself from the disruption of unconsciousness. It’s not even seven in the morning and fuck this—Dean wants more sleep. He rolls out of bed and yanks the slider closed and the blackout curtains shut before he gets back in bed with Cas. 

Their bed could be twice the size but Dean doesn’t care. He presses his body up against Cas, encouraging him to unroll from his cocoon and join Dean in the middle of the bed. It doesn’t take much and soon they’re both asleep again in the cool and now, much darker room. 

The blackout curtains turn out to be a curse, tricking both of their brains into much more sleep than either of them intended. It’s close to noon when Dean finally cracks an eye open to find himself alone in bed. Again. 

He groans and Cas pops his head out from their bathroom door. 

“Good morning, Dean,” he says. His hair curls at the ends and drips water from the shower Cas just got out of, much to Dean’s dissatisfaction. 

“You showered without me?” He’s whiny and he doesn’t care. Dean needs coffee. 

“I ran out for lunch and more honey and I literally  _ ran _ ,” Cas emphasizes. “Because someone turned off our alarm.”  

“Let’s chalk it up to brash three am decision making,” Dean muses. 

Cas laughs and comes into the room. He’s completely naked and  _ shit. _

Dean has to palm himself under the blanket and he watches Cas stand in front of the dresser, the curves of his ass really distracting and not helping Dean’s current situation. Cas is getting dressed, so he probably doesn’t want to get back in bed with Dean and—  

“Dean?” Cas turns, interrupting his train of thought. Dean lifts his eyes from Cas’ cute butt to his cute face which looks really fucking amused at Dean’s expense. He waggles his eyebrows and Cas shakes his head with a fond roll of his eyes before he turns back to the dresser. 

“Now that I have your attention—”  

“Oh you always had my attention—”  

“Dean.” Cas tries (and fails) to sound stern, his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. “I got lunch for us and I’m starving.” 

Dean’s stomach growls, right on cue. 

Cas cracks up when Dean throws himself back into the sheets. A pair of shorts hit him in the face and he groans. 

“Put those on and come down for lunch, Officer,” Cas calls over his shoulder as he leaves the room wearing another pair of ass hugging red shorts and  _ only _ a pair of ass hugging red shorts.

_ Where the hell has Cas been shopping? _

Dean realizes what he’s holding a moment later. One fucking time he confessed to Cas that he likes to wash his car and clean his house in them and now Cas wants him to wear them all the time. The very short cut-off shorts in Dean’s lap are mocking him. 

_ Fine.  _

_ But he’s not washing the car.  _

He pulls the shorts on and adjusts his cock, still half hard thanks to fucking  _ Cas _ and now the denim is gonna rub against him in all the right ways and shit—Dean’s resolve isn’t gonna last. But fine, Cas wants to gawk at his ass all day, great. Dean’s gonna let him. 

He takes a few minutes to get ready. Dean can hear Cas downstairs putting lunch out on the patio below their window so Dean grabs the sunscreen, putting it on before tucking the tube in his back pocket. He notices his laptop and camera bags missing, along with Cas’ art stuff and he grins, excited to start their day. 

Lunch is bbq, overflowing pulled pork sandwiches with crispy chips next to them. Cas’ eyes widen when he sees Dean join him in the kitchen. His gaze darkens and he licks his lips. 

“Okay, keep it in your pants buddy,” Dean chides. “You knew what you were getting into.” 

“Your fucking legs, Dean,” is all Cas can respond with, his voice rough. 

Just for that, Dean’s eating with them across Cas’ lap. He situates them just like that when they sit together in the shade of the patio, the sun high overhead. It’s warm but there’s a ceiling fan overhead that creates a cool breeze and Cas has cold beers served for them. 

Cas runs his hands up and down Dean’s legs as they eat and talk about idle things. Cas reminds him they have dinner planned with Max and Alicia and Dean tells him that Charlie wants to go out too and introduce them to Gilda. 

They finish eating and Dean’s happy when he leans back against the cushions, pulling Cas between his legs. Cas settles in Dean’s arms, his back warm against Dean’s chest. Dean palms Cas’ stomach, the hard lines of his body rolling up into Dean’s palms while Cas gets comfortable. Dean nibbles at Cas’ shoulders, working his way to the curve of Cas’ neck while Cas packs them a bowl to share. Cas’ skin is salty from the fine sheen of sweat that covers his body and Dean licks at it, wanting to taste every inch. His cock fills and he shifts. 

Cas helps Dean take a hit without having to remove his hands from Cas’ body and they giggle because Cas is pretty good at it. Dean whispers praises in his ear as Cas takes another hit, his body becoming more lax against Dean’s. He sets the bong on the table and lets his hands drift over Dean’s knees and down his legs. 

Dean can feel every inch of Cas pressing against him and he wants more under his palms. Cas’ head drops against Dean’s shoulder and Dean swipes his hands over Cas’ stomach, sweeping his hands in circles, lower and lower with each slide of his palms. His fingers brush against the waistband of Cas’ shorts and Cas’ breath hitches, his hips tilting up to press into Dean’s hands. 

Dean dips his fingers below the elastic, finding the trail of hair and dragging his fingers through it before he finds the dip of Cas’ hips. He digs his thumbs in and Cas moans deep in his throat, the sound spilling from his pink lips. Dean leans in and Cas meets him, their mouths coming together in a slow slide, their lips slick. Dean pulls Cas’ lower lip into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth with a tug that makes Cas’ hips twitch. 

“Sit up, babe,” Dean says before he bites into the curve of Cas’ neck. He grips Cas’ hips tighter, and grins against Cas’ shoulders as he works his way into a better seated position. When he’s in the right place, Dean hooks a leg over Cas’ to still him. 

“I’ve got you, Cas,” Dean whispers before he pushes Cas’ shorts down far enough to pull out his gorgeous cock, hard and wet, just from Dean’s touch alone. Fuck, if that’s not hot. 

Dean slides his hand down Cas’ shaft, feeling it pulse against his palm, a drop of pre-come beading at the tip and sliding down, helping the slide of Dean’s hand. He gasps as he watches Cas fuck his fist and Dean looks to Cas, who’s staring at him, eyes a raging storm, bottom lip clamped between his teeth as he rolls his hips. 

Dean bucks against Cas’ back, wanting some kind of friction for his aching cock. Cas grinds back and moans, his hand going around Dean’s as Dean jacks him. Cas is writhing in Dean’s lap and it's making Dean go out of his mind crazy. He wraps an arm around Cas’ waist and pulls them tight together before he stops the slide of their hands to swipe his thumb over Cas’ head, pressing his finger against Cas’ slit. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, Cas,” Dean gasps out and Cas comes with a shout. Dean watches with lidded eyes as Cas’ cock spills over his fist, covering their hands with his release. Dean closes his eyes and all he can see is that image on a loop. He thrusts his hips up and snaps Cas out of his orgasm induced haze. 

Cas doesn’t pull up his shorts when he twists in Dean’s lap, putting his knees under himself so he can reach Dean’s shorts, popping the top button and sliding down the zipper before he pulls Dean’s aching dick out of his pants. Cas spreads his own come down Dean’s shaft and it’s fucking incredible; wet, slippery, and still warm.

“Fuck,” Cas whispers before he ducks down to suck Dean’s cock into his mouth, his tongue rolling against the underside as he pulls Dean deeper down his throat. Cas’ mouth is hot and slick and his tongue is sin against Dean’s shaft and when Dean gives his hips a slight thrust, Cas squeezes his thighs, gives him the okay. 

Dean moans Cas’ name and thrusts his hips, his cock bumping into the back of Cas’ throat. Cas swallows around him and groans, the vibration making Dean want to come right then. He fucking moans Cas’ name when Cas slides his hand up to grip the base of Dean’s dick so he can enjoy his blow job a little longer. 

Cas wraps a few fingers around Dean’s shaft and strokes him in the same rhythm as his mouth. Dean sinks his hands into Cas’ hair and Cas’ eyes fly up to find Dean watching him. Dean’s hands tighten and Cas closes his eyes when Dean comes down his throat, swallowing around Dean’s head before sliding his lips up Dean’s shaft and letting Dean’s softening cock slap against his stomach. He buries his nose in the crook of Dean’s thigh before he bites his way up Dean’s body, Dean slack against the cushions. 

Cas kisses him, deep and pressing, his mouth salty from Dean’s release. A shudder works its way up Cas’ body, Dean can feel it under his hands that are splayed across Cas’ back. He kisses Cas hard and he whimpers in his throat, breaking them apart and mouthing at Dean’s jaw. 

“You’re so wonderful, Dean, thank you for bringing me here,” Cas mumbles into Dean’s neck. “It’s been an amazing trip and I’m so happy to be with you.” 

Dean could say it right now and Cas would say it back. Dean could say it right now and Cas would say it back and they could go upstairs and make love and spend the rest of their night there. 

He thinks of his plan, of the dinner he’s going to cook and the wine he’s going to serve and in the small slice of an off chance that Cas doesn’t feel the same, at least they’ll have had this last, good day. 

Dean still feels like an idiot when he lets the moment slip by, Cas getting up to clean himself and their lunch plates. He comes back outside and pulls Dean up by the hands to help him bring their stuff out. Cas has a cooler ready, full of beers and bottles of water for them to have outside. Dean brings out his cameras and laptop and Cas sets up his easel and paints. He’s been working all week on a canvas of their view and it’s close to being completed just in time to go home. 

Cas sets himself up out in the sun for the best light and Dean coaxes him back into the shade for a minute. He pulls Cas between his legs and kisses his stomach, unable to stop himself from getting his mouth on Cas’ bronze skin. Dean wraps his arms around Cas’ waist and smiles when Cas sinks his hands into his hair.  

He tilts his head up to see Cas wearing an adoring smile. “I’m happy to be here with you too, Cas.” Dean’s heart swells when Cas runs a thumb across his cheekbone. “Now, let me put some sunscreen on you if you’re gonna sit out there and paint.” He scoots back to let Cas sit between his legs so Dean can slather sunscreen over his broad shoulders. His back goes on forever, disappearing under those little shorts and Dean has to bite his lip to keep from pressing them to Cas’ now glistening skin. 

“Painting looks good, babe,” he murmurs instead, causing Cas to lift his head to peer at the canvas he set up. 

“Tonight’s sunset should be enough to finish,” he says, his voice already sounding far away, already with his art, no doubt. Dean smiles and gives him a little push. Cas cracks them open a few beers and passes Dean his, not letting go until Dean leans up to kiss him. 

“Put some music on for us, honeybee,” Cas says before he turns towards his easel, stretching his hands over his head before he settles into his seat. Dean fumbles with his phone for a minute, starting up a playlist he likes to listen to while he edits. Steve Miller Band pours out of the speakers and Cas nods his head in appreciation. 

They fall into an easy sort of trance, both of them pursuing their hobbies with all the time in the world, nothing pressing to do, nowhere important to be besides next to one another. Dean watches Cas paint, his style and technique all his own. The canvas drips with color, splashes arranged into the scene in front of them, down to some of the smallest details but still managing to look in disarray. 

Cas and his art always remind Dean of Chaotic Good. 

He takes as many pictures as he should be editing. It’s Dean’s business if he has albums full of Cas painting but he just can’t help himself. He gets up and replenishes their beers before he grabs his camera too. He kisses Cas on the temple when he replaces the bottle of beer in front of him. 

“Can I get you anything? Clean towels? Refill your water?” Cas brought acrylic paint and he has all his supplies spread out on a small table next to him. “Cas, blink twice if you can hear me.” 

He blinks and shakes his head and Dean smirks at him. “My apologies, Dean,” he says, still distracted. 

“It’s ok, just remember to blink once in a while,” Dean warns with a parting kiss to Cas’ shoulder, now turned hot under the sun. Dean takes a step back and lifts the camera to his face, snapping a few photos of Cas in profile. Fuck, he’s just—  Dean doesn’t have the words to do him justice. Cas’ face is all sharp angles and and soft lines. When he squints at his canvas, his eyes crinkle and his brow furrows and Dean wants to kiss every crease. He photographs them instead, recording each line and shadow on Cas’ face. 

His attention snaps Cas out of his daze, his back stretching as he rolls his head over to look at Dean. “Swim?” 

Cas doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s hauling ass to the lake and Dean’s fucking thrilled he has his camera in his hand because the series of shots he takes as Cas runs and launches himself off their dock are spectacular. Dean leaves the camera on the table before he’s running and diving off the dock himself, the cold lake water a shock to his system. 

By the time he pops out of the water, Cas is there laughing, tiny crystal drops of water clinging to his long eyelashes and Dean pulls them together for a hot kiss. Cas hefts Dean up by the thighs and Dean locks his ankles together, Cas’ hips digging into the back of his thighs. Cas licks deep into Dean’s mouth, grunting as he gets a better grip on Dean who’s enthusiastically kissing Cas back. 

He sinks his hands into Cas’ wet curls and his fingers slip between the strands, silky from the water. Cas’ grip around Dean gets tighter while they kiss, standing in chest deep, crystal clear water. The cold temperature is keeping Dean from getting fully hard and he’s glad because the wet denim isn’t doing him any favors. 

Cold hands slip down the back of his shorts, pulling the front tighter against his cock and oh right, Cas’ hands are palming his ass. Dean squirms and Cas squeezes and breaks them apart with a laugh. “You have a great ass, Officer,” he says with a smirk. “I especially enjoy burying my face in it.” 

Dean groans and pumps his hips. “Don’t make me get hard in these shorts,” he whines against Cas’ plump, kiss-swollen lips. Cas laughs again and untangles them which Dean objects to, by the way. Cas swims away, ducking under the blue water to swim a few feet, his body cutting through the water. Dean, forced to tread water, watches him swim back and forth before flipping to his back to float. 

Dean paddles towards him and calls out, “Incoming!” before slipping under the water to dive under Cas’ floating body, breaking through on the other side. Cas grins up at the sun and splashes in Dean’s direction. Dean treads closer and closer, reaching out to slowly push and pull at Cas’ prone figure, floating. 

“What are you doing?” Cas huffs out a laugh, following Dean with his eyes as he makes his way to Cas’ feet. Dean presses his thumbs into the pads, pulling each foot out of the water to kiss Cas’ big toes, looking at Cas and grinning while he does it. Cas cocks an eyebrow and wiggles his toes in response. 

“You about ready to go in? These shorts are rubbing in uncomfortable places and I’ve gotta make dinner still,” Dean ducks under the water to come out next to Cas’ side. Cas breaks his formation and kisses Dean before he pulls them towards the dock. Dean hangs back to watch Cas haul himself out of the lake, water sluicing down the ridges of his back, the ropes of muscles in his arms bulging under the strain of Cas’ own body weight and fuck, Dean’s throat goes dry. 

Cas vaults himself out of the water and when his feet hit the dock, Dean’s eyes trail up, taking in the tattoos on his thighs and the curve of his ass under tight, red, and now  _ wet,  _ shorts and Dean wonders if it’s possible to swallow your own tongue. 

_ His boyfriend is fucking hot.  _

“Are you planning on staring at me for the rest of the night?”

_ Duh. _

“Yes,” Dean answers bluntly. “Sounds good to me.” 

“Well, why don’t you do it out of the water,” Cas suggests as he heads up to the house.

_ Oh. Good idea. _

Dean hauls himself onto the dock, shaking water out of his hair as the sun heats his shoulders. Cas holds open a towel as Dean approaches and Dean grins when Cas rubs him dry.

“I’m gonna run up and wash off the lake, get dinner started.” Cas is looking over his shoulder and absentmindedly rubbing Dean’s shoulder with the towel. Dean reaches up a hand to stop him, startled crystal blue eyes focusing on him. “Hi.” 

Cas smiles, sheepish. 

“I’m going to start dinner.” Dean kisses Cas’ pink parted lips and heads inside with his cameras, a glance over his shoulder confirming that Cas is already back on his stool, paintbrush in hand. 

Dean takes a picture through the glass door, Cas looking like a painting himself, bathed in the fading light. Another hour and the sky would be on fire. Dean leaves the camera on the counter so he remembers to take the same picture again when the sun is setting. 

He doesn’t bother with the lights in the bathroom, pulling open the blinds to let in the sun. Steam fills the room and he enjoys the rain shower after he’s cleaned up, letting his muscles relax, his skin tingles from the slight sunburn he’s developed. His shoulders will be ruddy in a week. He’s running through the ingredients for tonight’s dinner when a familiar beep and shutter sound break him from his thoughts. 

“Cas,” he closes his eyes. The camera clicks again. 

“Yes, Dean?” Another picture. 

“What’s up?” he asks, trying to sound casual. He wants to laugh his ass off but also, he’s getting a little hard and is dying to see where Cas will take this. He rolls his head to look over his shoulder towards the entryway. 

Cas is leaning against it, camera in hand and a deviant smirk on his face. “I came up to join you and you were rinsing your hair and I thought of the many times you’ve taken my photo when I’m doing something arbitrary and I understood.” Cas’ tone is so casual, it shoots straight to Dean’s dick. “I got back up here as soon as I could and you were breathtaking, standing at peace like that. I didn’t want to interrupt it.” 

Dean swallows thickly and turns his body towards Cas. He doesn’t flinch when Cas raises the camera and takes another picture. “You know,” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. “If you come around to the door, the glass won’t be in your way.” 

_ Boom. Balls in your court, Cas. _

Cas’ eyes widen and he bites down on his lip before he walks around the shower doors to yank one open, more steam billowing out. Dean follows with his body turned towards Cas as he walks, finally stopping when Cas is standing in front of him. 

Dean spreads his hands open. “Where do you want me?” 

He swears Cas’ eye twitches. Dean smirks and waits for Cas to get it together or give in. 

“Part your legs more, please. And look—” Cas chokes on his words. Dean fucking loves it. “Look at me,” he says roughly. 

Dean bites down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning and looks at Cas through lidded eyes. Cas’ chest heaves and he closes his eyes for a moment before covering his face with the camera and snapping the picture. 

“Turn off the water and stand against the wall,” Cas instructs, his voice dark and heavy with lust and fuck, he’s telling Dean what to do and it’s fucking hot. His dick twitches hard where it bobs between them, making Cas suck in a breath. 

Dean presses his back to the tile, arousal burning through him. He struggles to control his breathing. 

“Close your eyes, and let your lips part,” Cas’ voice is somehow measured but about two octaves lower than usual which makes Dean suffer. 

He does what Cas says and hears the camera click. And click. And after a beat, click again. 

“Turn around,” Cas commands, his suffering weighing on him. Dean does as he’s told, a groan skittering against the tile as his cock presses against the wall. A few more clicks of the camera and all Dean hears is rustling before the shower door latches shut, Cas turning the water back on and sliding up against Dean’s backside. 

Cas’ body is slick and a column of muscle, tight against him, Cas’ thick cock sliding against the small of Dean’s back. Dean grinds his hips back with a grunt when Cas bites into the curve of his neck. He sucks and bites until Dean is bruised, a line of them across his shoulders. Dean pants against the tile, his whole body thrumming with pleasure thanks to Cas’ mouth and his fucking hands; hands that have been busy as Cas worked his way across Dean’s shoulders. 

One of Cas’ big hands has been between them, rolling Dean’s balls with his fingers while he thumbs at Dean’s perineum, teasing dangerously close to Dean’s rim. The other hand is dragging a thumb slowly across Dean’s ribs while his fingers brush against Dean’s nipple. No one’s ever touched Dean as good as Cas can. 

“You’re incredible, did you know?” Cas breathes into his ear. 

Dean feels hot, unworthy of Cas’ praise. He tries to turn his head towards the wall but Cas hooks a finger under his chin to lead him back. Dean flicks his eyes to Cas’ softened gaze. 

“I’d never lie to you, Dean,” Cas assures him. “The way your skin flushes a lovely brick red, helps me appreciate those beautiful freckles even more.” 

“Cas,” Dean whimpers. Too much, it’s too much. Every word Cas utters punches another hole in Dean’s shitty attempt at self preservation. 

Cas replies by sliding his erection between Dean’s thighs, the head bumping against Dean’s balls as he grinds against Dean’s ass. Dean tightens his thighs and Cas breathes harshly against his neck. 

“Dean,” he grits out, his hips becoming still. 

“Yeah, come on,” Dean goads him, rolling his hips and feeling Cas’ hard cock slide against the thin skin of his inner thighs. Strong hands grip Dean’s hips as Cas grinds into Dean’s backside with a shuddering groan. 

“This is what it’s going to look like when I fuck you, Dean,” Cas says, his voice full of wonder and shit, shit, Dean’s gonna come and Cas hasn’t even touched his dick yet. Cas rescues him and squeezes the base of Dean’s dick against his moan filled with want, his hips rocking back into Cas for more. Fuck, if Cas is gonna hold him back, Dean wants to feel it. 

Cas has been sucking another bruise into Dean’s skin. He soothes this one with his tongue like the others, his lips hot against Dean. He drags his lips over to Dean’s ear and Dean hums as Cas’ hot breath makes his skin break out in goosebumps. Cas finds his rhythm now and Dean’s aching, the slide of Cas’ cock stoking the fire in his belly. Cas pumps his hips and and wraps a hand around Dean’s leaking cock, sliding it up and down in time with his thrusts. 

“Did I mention my favorite feature about your camera over there?” Cas nudges Dean and tilts his chin towards the camera sitting on the vanity. It takes his brain a moment to catch up to Cas’ question and he shakes his head, now thrown back against Cas shoulder, his eyes on the blinking red light on the front of the camera. 

“The video function,” Cas whispers, hot in Dean’s ear and Dean comes so fucking hard he sees stars, shocks of pleasure ricocheting through him, Cas’ name echoing off the tiles. 

“Fuck—Dean, yes, you’re so beautiful when you come for me,” Cas pants, pumping his hips harder. Wet skin slaps against wet skin as Cas rocks against Dean, his cock slick between Dean’s thighs and every time it nudges against Dean’s balls, he thinks he’s going to come again. Cas is holding Dean in his arms and his grip tightens around him, warmth spreading between them. His come drips down the inside of Dean’s thighs and he moans again. 

Cas is molded against Dean, his cheek pressed to Dean’s shoulder as he catches his breath.

“Cas?”

He hums in response. Dean knows that hum, he’s too fucked out to be coherent which isn’t what Dean needs right now because he has a serious question for his boyfriend. 

“Did we just make a porno?” 

“Live stream to PornHub,” he mumbles back.

So, not fucked out enough to not be a smartass. 

“Well shit, if we’re doing that, we should charge.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Cas replies with a groan as he pulls them apart, grabbing for their body wash and loofah.  “We could quit our day jobs with your ass alone.”

“Perv,” Dean teases before he pulls Cas to him for a languid kiss. The slide of their lips is slow, both of them exploring and enjoying the taste of the other.  

“I need to start dinner, babe,” Dean finally acquiesces. He squeezes Cas’ ass when he growls his protest. “You’re gonna miss your show.” 

Cas perks up and looks over towards the windows, the room glowing from the setting sun. He has them both out of the shower in moments, tossing sweats towards Dean before he pulls his own on and hurries downstairs. Dean chuckles and pulls on a tank top before he follows.


	19. Chapter 19

Dinner is fajitas and Mexican rice with homemade tortillas which really, are the most work of the entire dinner. But worth it, totally fucking worth it when Cas’ moans around his first bite, going on and on about Dean’s cooking skills as he eats. Dean kisses away drops of sour cream, unable to tear his eyes away from Cas while he laughs and enjoys the food Dean made him. It’s perfect, it’s exactly what Dean was hoping for when they planned this trip. 

Before dinner, Dean got the picture he wanted, Cas illuminated by the burning sun, awash in colors Dean can’t understand. He doesn’t waste time on the camera, leaving it in favor of joining Cas and watching him paint for a minute before he sets down the brush and nods.

“It’s done,” he sighs out, looking relieved. He slips off the stool and winds their fingers together, tugging Dean past his easel to watch the last flashes of day, their last sunset in Tahoe. 

They sit together on the grassy shore, Dean tugging Cas down between his legs. Both hands are now twined together as Cas rests against Dean’s chest while he leans back. 

“Cas, paint it for me?” Dean asks against the dying light. 

Cas’ breath hitches and his hair tickles Dean’s cheek when he nods. 

“The deep yellow at the horizon is marigold,” Cas starts. He lifts their clasped hands to point at the sky. “That bleeds up into that orange color; persimmon.” 

Dean loves to hear Cas’ voice change, to hear his happiness as he talks about the hues he knows and loves and sees in ways he’s teaching Dean. 

When the sun slips below the horizon, Cas turns in Dean’s embrace and pushes him down to the soft grass. The blades tickle the back of Dean’s neck and his bare shoulders but all of that is forgotten when Cas kisses him, something easy, something he’s happy to slip into. They lay together and lose track of time, the sky dark when they come up for air, both smiling relaxed smiles at each other, their lips kiss swollen.

After dinner, they clean the kitchen together, Cas laughing at him when Dean air guitars his way through Led Zeppelin’s Ramble On and he’s blushing adorably when Dean changes the lyrics to finding the King of his dreams with a teasing kiss to Cas’ cheek before he’s lip syncing into the broom handle with a wink. Cas throws a dish towel at him after Dean slips by again and pinches his perky butt.

Dean is blissfully happy when they settle together on the back porch, the strings of lights their only illumination. Cas packs them a bowl and they smoke it together and enjoy the low hum of Zeppelin still playing from inside, the weed encouraging them both to be more clingy, legs tangling together, Cas sitting in Dean’s lap as he mouths along Dean’s collarbones. 

“I wish we could stay here forever,” Dean says absently, focused on the quiet air and Cas’ mouth on him. 

Cas stills and lifts his head. He scoots himself off Dean’s lap and onto the bench seat they’re sharing. Dean furrows his brow, he didn’t want the kissing to stop. 

“Babe?” 

Cas is practically curling in on himself, wrapping his arms around his legs now pressed to his chest, his chin resting on his knees. 

“Cas?” Dean sits up to reach for Cas; he lets his knuckles bump against the back of Cas’ hand. “Is this about what Gabriel said?” Dean wouldn’t want to go home to that situation waiting for him either.

Cas refuses to meet Dean’s eyes, turning his head towards the open darkness, the lake sitting silently in it. “What Gabriel said was inappropriate,” he states; quiet as to not break the stillness. Dean can hear water moving in the dark. 

“I agree,” Dean replies lightly. It’s enough to get Cas talking, anyway.

“My brother believes he—” Cas takes a steadying breath. Dean thinks he can hear the air rush through his lungs. “Gabriel has always looked out for me, my whole life. Much like you, for Sam.” Cas could choose not to say another word and Dean would understand. 

“Often his intentions aren’t perceived in the way he’d like.”

Dean thinks he got Gabriel’s intention pretty clear, thanks.

“I want you to know I had no intention of talking about this here, sure in my belief that any such topic would disrupt our weekend but—I’m sorry Dean, I just—I need you to know this now before…” Cas loses steam and finally turns his head back to an anxious Dean. His speech, every word laced with worry like he’d been practicing it in his head for days. 

Cas needs Dean to hear this before he can decide to really love him. 

They’re gonna find this hysterical, years from now. 

Dean scoots forward, his hand sliding up Cas’ arm to break the lock of his hands, releasing his legs so Dean can pull them across his lap. He pushes a throw pillow behind Cas’ back and prods him down. Dean lets his fingers trail across Cas’ stomach before he takes his hand back. 

In the low light, Cas’ eyes are almost indigo as he stares as Dean for a beat before looking down at his hands sitting in his lap. Dean reaches for them with one of his own and slides the other over Cas’ thighs, stroking lightly with his thumb. Cas’ muscles twitch under his touch. 

He needs Cas to know something. 

“Whatever it is, whatever you say,” Dean stares at their hands now, too. “It won’t change anything, Cas.” 

Cas’ hands tighten around his and Dean hopes he understands. 

“I met Michael three weeks after I moved here.” Cas licks his lips, eyes still down. Something in Dean’s chest tightens. 

“Gabriel worked very hard to get me here and two months after he gave up his bed for me—sleeping on the floor every night—I repaid him by disappearing.” 

Cas hasn’t even really started his story and already there’s at least three layers underneath whatever it is Cas is about to tell him. Dean wonders if Cas is aware he does that. 

“Being on my own for the first time was liberating and being in San Francisco, being  _ out  _ and feeling just like everybody else for the first time in my life was… freeing.” Cas takes a deep breath. “Gabriel warned me, asked me to slow down and let myself adjust but honestly, that made me act out more. I jumped into the art scene and that bleeds into the club scene and I was too dumb to tell the difference.” 

God, Dean fuckin’ hates clubs. Aside from his general grumpy old man attitude about them, as a cop and a former idiot himself, he knows what goes on behind velvet ropes. It pains him to imagine Cas being manipulated by the toxic culture that can exist in that world. 

“I met Michael at one of the less than savory gay clubs I used to visit.” Dean narrows his eyes. Cas goes on. “I knew a guy who worked there so drinks were free.” He shakes his head. “Michael was charming, right from the start. Swept me right off my feet. He said I was too sweet for a place like that and brought me to a fancy bar filled with other men who looked just like him. All expensive suits and greasy smiles.” 

“You must understand, Dean, I was nineteen years old, damaged fucking goods and he saw that about me, I wore it across my face and he—he did everything right. That first night, he took me back to his luxurious loft in the financial district, all cold glass and steel overlooking the most gorgeous landscape I’ve ever seen and fuck, it was like a fairytale.” 

Dean thinks he might be sick. Cas is talking slow, quiet, but his voice carries a lingering hint of something. It might be wonder and that makes Dean’s stomach roil. 

“He was so sweet, so accommodating that first night. He let me talk for hours about my life and everything that brought me to California and he  _ listened _ and you know, aside from my uncle and Gabriel, no one had ever—” Cas pauses and struggles with his words. “No one was every really interested in me, in knowing  _ me _ and it was exhilarating.” 

For once Dean’s glad Cas won’t look at him because he’s ashamed at the way his chest heaves. If he wasn’t concentrating so hard, Dean’s sure his hands would shake with the jealousy coursing through him. He can’t connect the way Cas is describing himself with the man he loves now, a man who’s perfected the wall he hides behind on a near constant basis. Dean’s never pushed Cas to talk about his past, grateful for the glimpses Cas affords him. He doesn’t owe Dean anything, Dean knows that, but fuck this Michael guy for not appreciating the gift he was given so easily. 

“We slept together, the first night.” Cas swallows thickly. “When we woke up the next morning, he told me he’s been around the world and seen incredible things but nothing as amazing as me.” 

_ What a fucking douchebag. _

Cas still won’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“I think I went back to Gabe’s a handful of times after that. Michael he, he kept us busy. Nice restaurants every night, fancy clubs with VIP sections and endless bottles of Cristal. He’d take me to art shows, indulging me when I’d suggest one in our neighborhood but turning me to the higher end art galleries, whispering that I made better art than the stuff hanging there and I fell for it all.”

“I moved in to his loft and let him take care of me. He polished me up, bought me new clothes and art supplies. We'd stay up all night talking about everything and it wasn't hard to fall in love with him.”

Ok, Dean’s definitely gonna be sick now. He can't even think when he pushes Cas’ legs off his and stands. Cas looks stricken, startled at Dean’s abrupt movements. 

“We uh, we need drinks, ” Dean chokes out, aware of his cowardice as he lets his need for escape win out over his need to be supportive. He stalks into the house and is grateful when the blinds cover him as he hunches over the counter, his head throbbing. 

Cas just said he fell in love. With Michael. That  _ Michael  _ swept him off his feet, with his money and his  _ loft _ and the way they would talk and  _ fuck.  _

Dean starts to pace. He was sure it wasn’t about that for Cas. He never made it seem like what they had wasn’t enough but it mustn’t be if Cas was so willing and able to fall for that guy. Everything Dean’s done and never asked for anything and now that he thinks about it, Cas hasn’t opened up to him, regardless of how honest Dean’s been. Maybe that’s his problem.

Dean huffs a self-deprecating laugh at himself. 

Always with your fucking feelings, always letting your heart lead you and never smart enough to protect yourself: The Dean Winchester Way. So it’s decided he’s not good enough for Cas to fall in love with, that sucks but Dean gets it. 

He can think about it later. When he’s alone. And drunk and in bed and shit. Is he gonna have to buy a new bed? New sheets at least. 

He rounds on the bar and pours two glasses of whiskey over ice for them. Might as well get this over with. He takes one last, imploring look at the marble countertop, hoping for some enlightenment and finding none. 

“Dean.” 

Dean’s fingers tighten around the cold glasses, now wet with condensation. This is the reason Dean kept his mouth shut all week because now, he knows he’s not good enough for Cas and he wants to laugh at himself for thinking the amazing week they had would be enough to make up for how much this hurts, right now. 

He still hasn’t turned toward Cas; he’s lost about where they go from here. 

“Dean, will you please let me finish my story? I feel it’s important.” Cas is behind him now so Dean turns and thrusts the glass in the other man’s hand. Cas is distraught when their eyes meet and they both tip their glasses back and swallow the entire glass in one go, still unable to look away. 

Dean breaks eye contact first to refill their glasses. He studies Cas’ face and decides to hear Cas out. Knowing how Cas felt, Dean doesn’t think it can get any worse. He nods. 

“Can we please go to our room? I’d feel more comfortable, there.” 

“I’ll meet you up there,” Dean replies with a nod. Cas stares at him a moment longer before heading down the hall and up the stairs. Dean turns off the lights outside and in, leaving the light over the kitchen table on for Sam and Sarah. He hopes his brother is having a better night. The two of them deserve to be happy. 

All doors locked and lights off, Dean heads upstairs with the bottle of amber liquid, but not before he refills his glass once more. The whiskey is making his chest warm and his steps stutter. Feels kinda nice. It’s taking the edge off and that’s all that matters right now.

The lights are low in their room and all Dean can see is Cas in the middle of their bed, sitting on his knees, his hands cupped around his empty glass. He’s taken his contacts out and he’s wearing his glasses. Cas’ shoulders sag and his head is down and Dean swears, even his hair is droopy. 

Dean hates it.

His knees bump the mattress and Cas lifts his head, his eyes red-rimmed. Dean’s heart feels like it’s being ripped out of his chest. 

He leans one knee down and tilts more whiskey into Cas’ glass before topping off his own and dropping the bottle on the nightstand. Whiskey making him greedy, he drops onto the bed next to where Cas sits, curling himself around Cas’ knees and propping up an elbow to rest his head and still be able to sip his drink. Cas’ eyes trail up the curve of Dean’s body and they’re midnight blue in the low light when they meet Dean’s. 

Dean keeps their eyes locked as he raises his glass to sip his drink, settling it on Cas’ knee when he’s done. Cas’ eyes flick to Dean’s hand where it rests on his legs and back to his face, his gaze hot. 

Dean’s gonna miss this. God, he really thought they were good at this.

The thought is sobering and he drinks his whiskey and cuts his gaze away from Cas’ again. Dean clears his throat. “You wanted to finish your story,” he prompts before another sip of his drink. Cas’ hands flinch around his glass. 

“Yes,” he states, his voice all whiskey soaked emotion. He fumbles with his glass, hesitating on taking another drink, lifting the glass halfway to his mouth and back down again. He finally decides and takes a drink. Dean just watches him, tries to find some part of Cas’ face he doesn’t already know by heart. He still hasn’t found it when Cas starts talking again.

“Like I was saying, it was easy to believe we were in love, easy to get wrapped up in someone's adoration of you. And it’s very easy to become complacent, for lack of a better word.” Cas bites his lip. “Happiness can be an illusion, Dean. Easier to believe in than tear apart due to your own slight misgivings.” 

Ice shifts in his glass when Dean rolls it around in his hand. He isn’t sure if Cas is trying to tell him that  _ their _ happiness has been made up this whole time because Cas speaks in so many fucking layers, Dean’s feeling caught up in them. 

“At first, I didn’t notice. Michael would ask me where I wanted to have dinner and upon my suggestion, he’d counter with another place more upscale, closer to his loft and what was starting to feel like a self imposed bubble.” He sighs and takes another sip. “Anything I wanted, he’d give me but in  _ his _ way so it didn’t really feel like I was missing out.” 

Dean’s studying Cas’ face now, still down turned, and it’s clear Cas is struggling. His hands shake when he takes the last sip of his drink and Dean can’t help but take the glass from his trembling hands to put both glasses on the nightstand. Cas stays where he is, palms open, his gorgeous tattoo snaking up his forearm, the story about his uncle rushing to the forefront of Dean’s mind. 

Cas came to California to start over. Something terrible happened even before he came here and the moment he was free, he met Michael. Dean’s starting to feel sick for several reasons, now. He tries not to think when he pulls Cas by the wrist to get him off the bed. Cas comes and stands quietly next to Dean as Dean pulls open their sheets and arranges their pillows for bed. 

Something loosens in his chest.

This is the man Dean loves. Nothing is gonna change that. Where they go from here, only they can decide and hell if Dean’s gonna sit here and watch his boyfriend suffer because Dean wants to be a selfish prick. Cas has had enough people treat him like shit and Dean will not have his name added to that list. 

He pulls Cas down into their blankets and goes to wrap him in his arms. Cas stills.

“Is this okay, Dean?” He’s asking permission to accept Dean’s embrace and Dean wonders if he’s already done damage he can’t undo tonight. 

Dean tightens his hold. “I told you it wasn’t gonna change anything.” Because really, it hasn’t. Not in the moment. He’s still here, he still loves Cas, and regardless of how confusing everything is, Dean meant what he said.

Cas nods and seems to settle at that, some of the tension leaving his body as he relaxes into Dean’s arms. 

“I admit I was naïve and easily impressed by him. We grew up in a very modest home, we didn’t have many luxuries; my mother frowned upon anything she considered lavish, anyway. She denied us many things as children but every year for my birthday, my mother allowed Gabriel to take me to the park alone so we could play the entire day.” A secret smile crosses Cas’ face when he glances at Dean. “What she didn’t know is that Gabriel would save for months and we’d spend the day at the tiny theater in town ran by an older couple, The Smith’s. They were kind to us and although it isn’t evident, Gabriel can be charming when he wants to be and he’d arrange a day of movies just for me.” 

Dean cocks an eyebrow at the word  _ charming _ considering it’s Gabriel’s  _ charm _ that got them here but okay.

“We’d start with a comedy, something stupid and crude like Ace Ventura, then an action movie for him, like Die Hard or Speed. Then any of the Star Wars movies to end the day, they were my favorite. I looked forward to that day all year.” 

The smile Cas is wearing fades away. “When I first told Michael about our tradition, he seemed enthused, asked me about different movies we saw and he said he liked that I had something so special with my brother and that was that, we didn’t talk about it again.” Cas’ eyes flutter shut. “I was so stupid, Dean, so selfish. Three days before my birthday, Michael surprised me with a trip to Spain. I was so shocked and just, in awe of him, that I didn’t think twice about my plans with Gabriel.” His voice is thick with unshed tears. 

“He fucking waited for me, Dean. He kicked all his roommates out and set up his apartment for a movie day, what should have been our first together as actual adults and I didn’t show up. I didn’t call, I  _ forgot. _ ” A tear slips down his cheek. “The most special day of my whole life and I fucking  _ forgot _ , Dean. You know what I was doing instead? Getting massages and eating fancy food which, in case you didn’t know, gets smaller the more expensive it is—and having Spanish art bought for me. And for what?” 

Tears are rolling down his face now and it kills Dean not to brush them away. 

“We returned home and I got my messages from Gabriel. They were angry, worried, and then furious when he finds out from our doorman that we’re out of the country. The last message broke me, he was drunk and ripping into me about using him and how he’s lived his life worrying about me,” Cas’ voice breaks between quiet sobs. “And how selfish I was.” He takes a shuddering breath. “Michael heard them after he found me crying in our bedroom. He told me I deserved a family that loved me unconditionally and that Gabriel should understand that I wasn’t always going to be his to take care of, that it was Michael’s job now.” 

Dean’s chest hurts, a simmering rage building in his belly. 

“I didn’t speak to Gabriel again for another five months. He was my only connection before Michael and without him, I let Michael become my entire world. I was angry Dean, angry at Gabriel for being so selfish and not being happy for me, after everything. And I  _ believed _ that. Anytime I’d doubt it, Michael would be there to let me vent and he’d happily guide me back to the idea that I didn’t need that negativity in my life.” 

“There was a small studio I was taking classes at, art classes. Mostly history and appreciation stuff, things I’d always had an interest in but never got to explore. Michael thought it was a good way for me to pass my time while he was at work so he paid for me and his friend’s wife to go.” Cas presses his lips together in disdain. “Bartholomew and Hester were the two most boring people on the planet. I loathed their company but Michael was happy when they were around which he was quick to remind me if I complained.” 

_ Mother fucker was training him. And gave him a fucking babysitter. _

“I’d feel so bad, Dean. Michael gave me so much, I could tolerate them on his behalf, as I was sure he tolerated things about me.”

_ Yeah fucking right, Dean doubts it.  _

“Sometimes, Hester would be sick when I went to pick her up for our classes and I’d be so happy.” His voice has gone quiet. “It was one of those days Meg introduced herself to me.” 

Dean looks at him in surprise. He had no idea Cas has known Meg as long as he has, and when he was still with this fucking asshole. Meg just got a lot more interesting in Dean’s book. 

“She said she noticed me with that ‘uptight bitch’ and could see how much more relaxed I was without her. Meg has always been blunt,” he says wryly, air quotes and all. Dean thanks God for that now. “She dragged me out for margaritas and let me sober up at her place before I went home.” He smiles. “She even gave me a cover story without ever confirming I’d need one.” 

“What was it?” Dean asks, his voice rougher than he was expecting but it makes sense, he hasn’t spoken for a while. 

“That I joined an after class study group and we got lost looking at art at the de Young Museum.” Cas snorts out a laugh. “Michael bought me two culture passes to every museum in the city. He gave me free reign to the entire city, Dean. Meg went crazy. She took me to every single little art museum and co-op and creative space in town.” Cas’ cheeks are flushed with memories. “She introduced me to Balthazar and their girlfriend, Ruby.” 

Dean’s mouth falls open. “Wait, Meg and Baz? Still? And they had a girlfriend?”

Cas’ eyes shine and he huffs out a laugh. “Yes, still. I thought you could tell. They’re going to love that you couldn’t.” He quirks a grin at Dean and it makes his eyes soften. “Ruby lasted a while but they’ve been dating again. My propositions were weekly until you came along.” Cas’ cheeks burn red again. “And then they asked if we’d both—”  

“What—”  Dean squeaks. 

“And I didn’t even entertain the thought,” Cas is laughing now as Dean tries to wrap his head around just the number of dicks involved in— 

“Oh my god, Dean, stop thinking about it,” Cas groans. 

“Well, you could have asked,” Dean mumbles, finally laughing when Cas’ face twists in confusion but definite interest. “Okay, you went off track,” he reminds Cas. They can discuss that later.

“My apologies. Those memories were more fun than what followed after Michael found out what we’d been up to with his passes. I still don’t know how he found out, but he did and he—he cut those passes to shreds right in front of me. I watched scissors slice through my freedom and I knew it was over.”

Dean thinks his heart stops, their brief moment of levity gone.

“I tried to leave. All the time I spent with Meg, it all came out, you know?” Cas shakes his head. “What this relationship had become and how I felt trapped and most importantly, why I stayed because Michael was the person who loved me the most. I felt like I  _ owed _ him, Dean. And Meg—” He looks up and sighs. “She tried so hard to wake me up, to make me see—you know how she gets.”

Dean nods.

“Think a thousand times worse. She’d talk about Baz like a partner, like a friend, not like someone who controlled her bank account and gave her a curfew. She’d take me out with them to lunch and he’d pull out her seat and she’d pour his beer and they’d just exist for each other and it wasn’t like that, for me and Michael. And I had no idea it could be anything besides feeling like I owed him everything.” 

“So I tried to leave and he wouldn’t let me.” 

Dean’s brain skids to a halt. 

“Cas, did that bastard—did he—” Dean can’t make himself say it, the thought so revolting it makes his skin crawl. If Michael hurt a goddamn hair on Cas’ body, Dean swears—  

“He never physically stopped me from leaving. Instead, he fell apart. He promised he’d replace my passes, he begged me not to leave him even as I stood there with my bags in my hand. I could have reached out and touched the door handle, Dean, that’s how close I was, and I think he would have watched me go but I didn’t. I couldn’t.” 

Cas’ eyes meet his and they’re dull, the light gone from them. They close when Dean cups his cheek, unable to stop himself. 

“I stood there and listened to him and when I dropped my bag, he picked it up and led us back to our bedroom and he sat me down and I watched him unpack my things and promise me he’d do better, that he’d make more time for me because that was all I needed, that was what I was missing.” 

Dean can’t think of another human being he’s never met that he hates more than Michael. 

“Michael took two weeks off and spent every moment with me. I was numb, Dean, I don’t even remember what we did. It all meant nothing by then.” He clears his throat, shaking himself from the darkness. His eyes clear, a flash of aqua calming Dean’s mind. “A week after he went back to work, Hester had started to pick me up for class—in case I didn’t show at her house; I was a flight risk—so when there was a knock on my door, it wasn’t too surprising. Usually, she buzzed me to come down, but I thought maybe our doorman let her up, or she had something to drop off from Bart.” 

Cas’ eyes turn up in a smile that hasn’t made it to his mouth yet. Dean loves to watch it build. 

“It was Gabriel and Meg, dressed as repairmen.” He purses his lips as he fights back a grin. “It’s funny now, they’ve got selfies of themselves dressed up somewhere, but then it was terrifying. They rushed around packing my things and honestly, I didn’t have much. My sketchbooks, a few of my favorite shirts and paint brushes.” His face closes off again. “I suspected Michael had cameras in the loft but I didn’t know for sure until then. I was taking the key from my favorite key chain—you know, the little metal Golden Gate, Gabe gave it to me my first day in the city—when he came home.” 

This entire time Cas has been talking, a slight terror has been building in Dean’s chest, and now, anxiety ripples through him. He pauses Cas’ story by pressing their lips together, Cas reacting and kissing Dean back hard, desperate, his mouth tugging down instead of spreading up as it does when they usually kiss. Cas pulls at Dean’s shirt, tugging him closer and Dean wraps his hands around Cas’ head so he can tilt it and kiss Cas deeper. 

Dean needs this as much as Cas is responding to him, needs to reassure him and take some of that from Cas, even if he doesn’t know he’s giving it. Cas trembles in Dean’s arms when they break apart for air. Their breaths are ragged and hot against each other and Cas slides his mouth to kiss Dean’s cheek. 

He starts to whisper.

“Everything happened quickly after that. Michael tried to reason with me and when that didn’t work, guilt and tears. Gabriel came back up then, he had been loading my bag in the car. It was—ugly. Michael turned nasty the moment he realized who Gabriel was and he thought Gabriel was the reason I was leaving him. He screamed at both of us, horrible things, Dean, things I’ve tried hard to forget.” 

He kisses Dean again, soft, hesitant.

“Things you’ve helped me remember aren’t true when they creep in,” Cas says with another gentle press of his lips. Dean’s heart skips. He wants to take all of Cas’ pain from him. 

“I shut myself off, after everything. It took me a long time to even think of myself in a positive way and I wasn’t interested in dating. I just wanted to make art and figure out who I was and who I wanted to be and so I did it. It took years and it was a hell of an investment because in all of that self-discovery, I figured out that I really love myself, and I love food, and music, and color, and  _ sex,  _ and most of all, the freedom to fucking want those things and not be ashamed.” 

Dean gives him a weak smile. It’s overwhelming, to hear the person you love recognize in themselves what you love about them. Cas deserves to love himself, first and foremost. The small voice in the back of his head suggests it would be nice if Cas loved him like that even if only a little. 

Cas tilts them apart to study Dean’s face. Dean closes his eyes because it’s just too fucking hard to look at Cas right now. His emotions are raw and his heart hurts in the wake of Cas’ confessions.

“Dean, there was something else that I hadn’t realized, something I had gotten so very wrong during my time with Michael.” He pauses and strokes Dean’s cheek. Dean still doesn’t open his eyes. “I was good, you know? Content, feeling settled with Gabriel, with our business and our life as it was playing out.”

Cas pushes the hair from Dean’s forehead. “Then I was walking home from a meeting—you know our sadist publisher likes to meet at six am for the East Coast branch—and as ridiculous as it may be, they had just told us we were getting signed for three more books. It was truly a great morning.” 

Cas sounds so happy, and after hearing his voice filled with anguish for some time, it makes Dean open his eyes just to see if his expression matches. He’s pleased to find that it does. Cas’ eyes are soft around the edges and his mouth is tilted into a smile. His eyes are cobalt and he’s looking at Dean like he’s something to be adored. Dean doesn’t know what to believe.

“And then I walked into Weaver’s and saw only one open seat left and no line. Impossible decision, you know?”

Dean chuckles and nods, his eyes captured by Cas’ gaze. 

“I took a chance with the guy sitting next to the seat, I assumed that because he was in uniform, he probably wouldn’t rob me while I ordered my coffee.” 

Dean makes a thinking face and shrugs when Cas shoves at his shoulder, anything to check his racing heart.

“You know, when you looked up at me and your eyes widened, I had a small panic attack. My apologies if you thought I left for the line quickly.”

All Dean can remember is how much of an idiot he was being. Cas was perfect if he trusts his recall skills and he does because—cop. 

“The whole time, I was running through every shade of green I saw in your eyes; fern, emerald, olive, pear infused with gold and pricks of juniper. Dean, your eyes are the only thing in this world that I can’t describe using my extensive color pallet. They are their own, new, color and—”  

Cas takes a deep breath and thumbs away the tear that slips down Dean’s cheek, his emotions spilling over.

“I thought I was having a perfect morning and then I met you. And you showed me what a perfect morning really looks like, waking up in your arms and drinking coffee by your side no matter where we are.” He gestures around the room and Dean chuckles wetly. 

Cas stares at him with wide eyes, a storm of emotion behind them, determination winning out above the rest. He sets his jaw and kisses Dean again, one more searching kiss tinged in want and need. 

When Cas pulls back Dean gasps and chases his mouth before he catches himself. He bites down on his lip and tries to breathe. 

“I thought—I thought I knew what love was, when I was with Michael, but I was so fucking wrong and so very relieved when I realized I was wrong because that wasn’t any kind of love, it was manipulation and it wasn’t until I fell in love with  _ you, _ that I was able to realize all of that.”

_ What. _

_ Wait, what? _

“Dean, I love you.” Cas kisses Dean and he feels like he’s dreaming. “I’m in love with you.”


	20. Chapter 20

“I’m in love with you.”

Dean’s brain cannot get on board. The words keep racing through it and they kinda make sense but don’t? 

“Dean—”

“Say it again, Cas.”

“I love you,” Cas says. Like there’s nothing truer in this world. Like he’s never said anything with any less hesitance. 

Cas loves him.

Cas fucking  _ loves him. _

Dean attacks Cas’ mouth, to put it delicately. A laugh bubbles out of his chest and he’s breathless when Cas hooks a leg over his to pull them together. Their tongues slide together, hot and wanting and Dean wants all of Cas.

“Cas, Cas,” he pants out between kisses. “You bastard, I’m so mad at you,” he accuses. Non stop he’s been planning this moment and his asshole boyfriend has to beat him to the punch  _ again. _

“You keep doin’ that,” he whines, without giving up possession of Cas’ mouth. Cas smiles wide against Dean’s kisses. 

“Dean,” he warns. 

Dean pulls back and pushes the hair off Cas’ face, appreciating his flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “I love you, Cas, love you so much,” he murmurs as his eyes sweep over Cas’ cheeks and back down to his mouth before meeting Cas’ wide, gorgeous, perfect eyes. Dean’s a little drunk on the moment. “You always gonna beat me to everything?” 

“I’ll let you propose. Make it big and we’ll call it even,” Cas says before he’s kissing Dean again, before Dean’s lost in him, all taste and touch and everything Dean anticipated when he let himself be hopeful about this moment. And yeah, proposal, he can handle that. 

His heart races. 

“I love you, Cas.” Dean cups Cas’ face and huffs a laugh against his lips before kissing him again. “So in love with you, babe,” Dean confesses. Cas’ lips part on a sigh and he softens, the tension leaving his body. Dean kisses him again, a brush of their lips. 

He loses track of time thanks to Cas’ sweet mouth. Dean’s pretty sure they've been kissing for hours and Cas is making these awesome noises between kisses and Dean wants to hear them forever. He grumbles out a protest when Cas pulls back, his eyes hooded and lips swollen and pink.

“I need the restroom and another drink. Can you pour it for us?” Cas sits on the edge of the bed and rolls his shoulders, stretching his neck and twisting at the waist. He stands and stretches and Dean’s eyes linger on his retreating form, surprised at his abrupt departure. 

Dean shakes it off and pushes himself up to do as Cas asked, pouring them a few fingers of whiskey. He takes a sip and tops it off again. 

Dean grins into the dark room. Cas loves him back. They have a lot to fuckin’ talk about but Cas loves him back and shit, Dean can’t stop himself, listening and hearing the water still running in the bathroom before he jumps out of the bed and indulges in a little happy dance.

He makes it quick, a few rolls of his hips and  _ maybe  _ a fist pump or two but Dean’s not tellin’. Dean flops back on the bed with a grin, until he realizes the water is still running in the bathroom and if Cas is washing his hands in there, they’re clean by now. 

He peeks into the bathroom to see Cas, leaning over the sink. His hands are planted on either side and his shoulders are hunched, his head down, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. Cas should feel lighter after their talk, not like this.

Dean approaches quietly, not wanting to startle Cas and he slips his hands over Cas’ hips. He reaches forward to turn off the faucet, causing his body to press against Cas’. Dean’s hands slide around so he can lace his fingers together and hook his chin over Cas’ shoulder. It’s wet, along with Cas’ hair and Dean knows it’s a sign of Cas trying to pull it together. He does it too; he finds the water helps clear his head.

This explains why Cas left their bed in such a hurry after such a revelation. Dean mentally smacks himself for not checking on Cas earlier. 

“Baby,” he sighs, slipping a hand under Cas’ shirt to palm at his stomach. Cas curls into himself a little more. Dean can feel his muscles ripple under his palm and he lets his fingers flutter up to Cas’ chest. “I have our drink, come on.”

He guides Cas back to their bed, glancing at the clock to see its nearly three in the morning. They've been talking for hours. He kisses Cas’ worry away when he wants to go get them some water, promising to come right back. 

Sam rummaging in the fridge in his underwear stops Dean short when he gets down to the kitchen.

“Communal space, ever heard of it?”

Teasing Sam is worth it when he hits his head on the inside of the refrigerator because Dean scared him. When he extracts himself, he's  _ ruffled.  _ Sex hair ruffled. 

_ Gross, no thank you.  _

Sam knows that Dean knows. A bitch face flashes across his expression before he stands up straight and tosses the hair from his eyes with a flick of his head. 

Dean raises an eyebrow at him and the hickey on his chest. 

“And you think I'm the gross one,” Dean grouses. 

Sam seems to notice that Dean's fully clothed and not half naked himself. “Something happen tonight?”

Dean tries to smile reassuringly. “I think so, little brother.” He pats him on the shoulder to get past him to the fridge for their bottles of water. “I think it's gonna be good, Sammy.” 

“That's great, Dean, you deserve it.” Sam’s looking at him kinda soft and it’s… weird.

He holds a hand out. “All right, this is a borderline chick flick moment.” 

“You love chick flicks, Dean,” Sam replies with an impressive eye roll for three in the morning.

“You're right, I do. So does Cas,” he winks at Sam before he pulls him in for a tight hug. 

“Sam?” The sound of Sarah calling softly for Sam breaks them apart. 

“Go get em, Tiger,” Dean pushes Sam towards the hallway. “Wear a condom,” he calls out. Sam flips him off in response. 

Dean's still chuckling when he gets upstairs and locks their door behind him. He twists open a bottle of water to pass to Cas. 

“What's so funny?” he asks with a tilt of his head. 

“Ran into old Sammy boy downstairs, he's getting lucky tonight,” Dean replies with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “They grow up so fast, Cas,” he mocks, wiping away a fake tear.

Cas looks down at his hands, picking at the label wrapped around the plastic bottle. Dean only lets him fuss for a moment before he drops on the bed to bracket his legs around Cas where he’s sitting, cross legged. He runs his hands up and down Cas’ arms. 

“Talk to me, please, Cas.” 

“It’s just—I’m sorry, Dean, I know you wanted tonight to be special and that we’d possibly,” he gestures faintly between them. Dean’s cheeks burn. “Be together and I’ve possibly ruined everything and—”  Cas sighs, frustrated. 

“Hey,” Dean strokes the shell of Cas’ ear, sliding his hand down to tip Cas’ chin up. “You haven’t ruined a damn thing for me, Cas. I’m just as in love with you right now as I was when I woke up this morning, and the day before, and the day before.” Cas closes his eyes but presses his cheek into Dean’s touch. “Tell me about after, did Michael try to contact you?” 

Cas presses his eyes shut tighter before he sits up straight and opens them, a resolve there that makes Dean’s heart beat faster. He swaps the bottle of water for the glass of whiskey and takes a big enough drink that Dean knows it’s burning as it goes down. Cas takes it like a champ though, barely a grimace.

“As far as I’m aware, only once.” 

_ What the fuck does that mean? _

Dean swears, he will track this asshole down and—  

“Meg saw him, once, outside one of the galleries we used to enjoy visiting. She said he was standing across the street and when he saw her, he just stared. She went back inside to call Baz and by the time he arrived, Michael was gone,” Cas stares up at the ceiling. “Last I heard, he had left the city and was in New York, or maybe D.C..” 

He looks back at Dean and his hands twist in his lap. “I—I want you to know Dean, I’ve enjoyed our time together, every moment.” His eyes are sad and Dean doesn’t know what the fuck is going on right now. “I would understand if this changes how you feel—”  

“Wait, Cas, do you think—do you think I wanna break up?” 

Cas can’t think that. Even when Dean was being a peak idiot and assuming Cas didn’t love him, he still didn’t want to break up, he wanted to stay together and try to live with the fact because this was  _ Cas.  _

Cas’ eyes grow wide and he averts his gaze. “If you did, I would respect that…” he trails off, defeated. 

“Aw hell no babe,  _ fuck _ no. You love me,” Dean says proudly. “You love me  _ back. _ ” 

Cas’ cheeks flush. 

“The rest is just details.” Dean closes the gap between them with a gentle press of his lips to Cas’. 

“But seriously,” Dean winds their fingers together and lets them stay in Cas’ lap. “You’re my babe,” he runs his nose against Cas’. “And I’m your honeybee,” Dean says with a smile so wide it hurts his cheeks. “Best day ever, Cas,” he finishes, kissing the man he loves. 

And Cas kisses back, pulling his hands free from Dean’s and running them through Dean’s hair. He sighs out a groan against Dean’s lips, warm breath against Dean’s wet mouth and his cock becomes interested. 

Dean’s hands find Cas’ hips and he kneads, squeezing and massaging the sharp bones and tight muscle, making Cas’ breath get all huffy the way Dean loves. Dean pushes his hands under Cas’ shirt and lets his hands slide up warm skin, firm under his touch. He skims over those delicious hips, fingertips trailing over fluttering stomach muscles.

Their kisses are getting hotter, their tongues rolling together a little more forcefully, their teeth clicking together more than once. Cas bites down on Dean's bottom lip and Dean moans, unable to even try and stop it. 

“Do you even know how breathtaking you are, Dean? You're incredible,” Cas murmurs against Dean's cheek. “I love you, I love being with you,” Cas’ voice is like gravel and it skitters under Dean's skin. 

_ It feels so fucking good.  _

It feels fucking awesome until Cas is pushing Dean onto his back and then it's  _ better.  _

Cas situates himself between Dean's legs when they fall open, inviting. He wraps Dean's legs around his waist with a gentle touch. Dean hooks his ankles together and pulls Cas closer, reaching up to slide his hands around the back of Cas’ head to pull him down.

Their mouths find each other in the dark, amongst the rolling hips and sharp breaths, both men hard and trapped in their sweats. 

Dean's never hated clothes more. 

Cas takes care of them quickly, skilled hands working them both free of their pants with practiced movements, never breaking their kiss. They both moan openly into each other's mouths when Cas wraps his hand around them. He tilts his head down to look, gasping. 

“Look,” he says roughly, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. 

It takes all of Dean's effort to obey, his body ready to submit to the stroke of Cas’ hand, but he lowers his head and looks anyway, his breath catching in his throat. 

Their cocks slide, wet, in Cas’ big fist, both their heads poking out from the top. Cas rolls his hand and milks them both, drops of pre-come leaking out and meeting in the middle, blending into one filthy drop.

Cas pauses and drags his thumb through their combined mess, releasing them, much to Dean's disappointment before bringing his thumb up to Dean's mouth. 

He opens his mouth without prompting and Cas wastes no time pressing his thumb to Dean's tongue and kissing him around it, both able to enjoy the taste of  _ them.  _

“Dean,” Cas’ voice is broken. “Dean, I want you to come with me, can you please,” Cas begs. “I need you.”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean whines into Cas’ throat, wishing he could taste them again. “Make us come, babe.”

Cas’ strokes quicken and he sounds strangled as he groans against Dean's chest. 

“Now, Dean,” Cas comes with a shout, Dean biting into the curve of Cas’ neck as he comes too, unable to ignore the pulse of their cocks together as Cas jacks them slow, coaxing out every drop to spill between them and onto Dean's belly. Cas’ hand slides off them and he rocks his hips to let their softening cocks slide together in their combined spend. 

Dean groans and lolls his head back, Cas taking advantage and pressing his lips to the hollow of Dean’s throat. “I love you,” he murmurs and a laugh breaks out of Dean, joy in its purest form. He tightens his legs and threads fingers through Cas’ hair. 

He pulls hard enough to get Cas to drag his lips to Dean’s so Dean can kiss him, encouraging his mouth open with little licks until Cas relents and welcomes Dean’s tongue with a groan. Dean’s happy to pass the time kissing Cas but they both shudder when Cas shifts his hips and its—sticky. He crawls off Dean with a wince and is quickly wiping them both down with a warm cloth. Dean twists onto his stomach, noticing the clock. 

It’s officially late enough to be early. 

He looks over to catch Cas perving on his ass so he rolls his hips just to torture the little creep. 

Dean climbs out of bed to kiss Cas, stroking one finger over his soft cock. “Don’t objectify me, Cas,” he whispers against Cas’ jaw, eliciting a sweet intake of breath out of the man. Dean gathers the giant comforter from the bed and wraps them both in it. 

“Let’s go downstairs and watch the world wake up,” he whispers into the space between them. Cas’ eyes soften and he nods. They get downstairs without tripping over themselves because neither want to let go, content with taking their time to get there safely and remain pressed together, still skin to skin.

_ Communal space can suck it.  _

They situate outside, Cas in Dean’s arms again, in the space they’ve made their own in the days they’ve been there. Dean’s gonna miss it. A lot. 

The blanket covers them completely and they wait for the sun to make another appearance. 

“Dean, I—I hoped by telling you this story, you would see why it’s so hard for me to trust and open up to anyone,” Cas pulls Dean’s hand up to kiss his palm before rubbing his nose across it. It’s soothing Dean’s nerves, their conversation bringing back the dull ache he’s been fighting all night. 

“But you deserved better Dean. That was my failure and I want you to know how sorry I am and how much I treasure your candor with me.” He nuzzles into Dean’s palm again and Dean watches through hooded eyes. “It’s something I love so much about you.” 

Cas is quiet and Dean watches him gather his thoughts, his face scrunching around his eyes as he thinks. Dean smooths his thumb along Cas’ hairline. If he was ever hurt about Cas not opening up to him, the thought was usually fleeting and aside from his initial reaction to what he told him about Michael, Dean’s been comfortable letting Cas open up to him in his own time. He doesn’t need an apology. 

“When I started to date again, I didn’t think much about sleeping with the other person, didn’t give it much weight, if I’m being honest.” Cas shifts. “I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and I admit, I was promiscuous.” He stills, awaiting Dean’s reaction.

_ That should  _ **_not_ ** _ be hot, Winchester. _

“I can’t fault anyone for wanting to hit this, Cas,” Dean chuckles and presses a kiss to Cas’ temple. Dean can hear him roll his eyes. 

“I’m telling you this because I need you to understand why I wanted us to take things slow,” Cas pauses and sits up so he can look at Dean. The blanket pools around his waist and his skin pebbles thanks to the early morning chill. There’s trepidation in his eyes and Dean feels like an ass for teasing him. 

Cas’ eyes soften when he registers Dean’s regret and he kisses him quickly before going on. 

“You’ve always been different, Dean. You felt different, even from the first time we spoke. I admit, I’ve never been compelled to draw anyone I’ve ever been attracted to before,” his confession is soft spoken and it makes Dean’s stomach flip. “You’re gorgeous, Dean, the sharp lines of your face were begging to be drawn and then you called,” Cas has serious heart eyes right now and it’s making Dean blush. “You called and I had never understood the expression of one having butterflies in their stomach until that moment.” 

Dean tries to bury his face in Cas’ shoulder, his words carefully slicing through Dean’s self-esteem issues, but Cas won’t let him, holding him back by the shoulder and leveling their gazes. “I wanted you Dean, but I wanted to find out if I could love you; I wanted to find out if you could love me.” Tears spill over and splash onto his cheeks. 

“I do, Cas,” Dean thumbs them away. “So much,” he whispers. 

“I feel very broken, Dean.” Cas’ voice comes with a warning tone said in a hushed whisper.

“I do too, sometimes.” He cups Cas’ cheek. “Just something else we can do together.”

They sit in the silence, staring, before Dean breaks it by wrapping them back up into the blanket. 

The way they feel about each other, it’s all out in the open. No taking it back now. 

Dean would never want to, anyway.

The sun rises and the world opens its eyes, small birds skimming the lake and a few people already out in kayaks with the same idea to witness the stunning display of Mother Nature. They can’t be blamed for falling asleep in each other’s arms, the warm morning sun making it impossible not to. And it’s  _ not _ Dean’s fault the blanket slipped off him just enough to traumatize Sam when he found them there a few hours later. 

At least it gets them back up into their bed, Dean telling Sam not to peek while they tried not to laugh until they got upstairs and in the safety of their bed. 

Still not bothering with clothes, Dean drags Cas down into their cool sheets. “I love you,” he tells his boyfriend as he wraps their bodies together, his leg slotting between Cas’ and his arm bracketing Cas’ back so Dean can hold him close. He grins. “I really like saying that.” 

“I really like hearing it,” Cas murmurs back before he’s kissing Dean and Dean fuckin’ hopes Cas never gets tired of this, of him, and of these absolutely perfect moments that keep passing between them.


	21. Chapter 21

A few hours of sleep later and they’re back on the road after a happy goodbye lunch with Sam and Sarah. Plans are made to have them both up to the city for dinner soon. 

They stop for a quick peek around Sacramento, Cas nerding out on the Capital and taking notes about points of interest and food stops. Dean thinks they could plan a little overnight and enjoy a nice weekend away. Now that he’s got the bug, he wants to get out of their comfort zones a little more often. 

Coming home is nice though. Cas asks Dean to take him back to his place, not yet ready to break the illusion of being on vacation. Dean has two more days off and will spend them however Cas wants. 

“Let’s go out,” Cas announces after dropping his bags on the floor of Dean’s room. Dean’s halfway through unzipping his duffle and he raises his eyes. “I owe you a proper date, Dean. Last night was—”  

“Last night was fine, Cas,” Dean crosses the room to take Cas in his arms. “You don’t owe me anything.” He cups Cas’ ass and smirks. “But I will let you take me to dinner.” 

Dean’s missing their shower in Tahoe when they crowd into his, which now seems about ten times smaller. Cas still pushes him under the spray to kiss Dean breathless under the warm water. He leaves Cas to finish getting ready in the bathroom, warning him not to shave his almost beard that’s been covering Cas’ jaw all week. It’s unfair the way Cas’ face looks even  _ better _ with a beard because it highlights his strong jaw which already didn’t need help to look delicious. 

Dean wonders just how hungry Cas is and considers keeping him in bed instead. 

That line of thinking flies out the window when Cas steps out of the bathroom. He didn’t shave but his hair is combed and tucked mostly into one of his beanies, an off white one to highlight the geometric pattern on his short sleeve, black button up, the top buttons open to reveal Cas’ tan collarbones. Tight black pants and black boots finish his look and Dean’s smile turns wicked. 

_ This hot mother fucker is in love with you.  _

Dean still thinks it impossible. 

Cas’ eyes widen when he notices that Dean took extra care with his outfit too, feeling like tonight might be special and wanting to make it so, for Cas. Dean’s wearing a vintage Zepp tee under a black blazer, the front of the shirt tucked behind his belt. Gray skinny jeans and white sneakers finish his look. 

“Are you flashing ankle at me, Officer?” Cas asks, heat in his eyes. Dean blushes. “Oh and a French tuck,” he teases. “Tan France would be so proud of you.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “You’re wearing a patterned button up with the short sleeves rolled up.”

“I bet if you take off the blazer, yours are rolled too.” Cas shrugs. “He’s a genius. An incredibly hot genius.” 

Dean would be insulted if Cas wasn't one hundred percent correct. 

“I think he’d agree with me when I say you’d look hot with a little red bandana around your neck,” Dean muses, not for the first time. 

Cas rolls his eyes. “I thought we agreed that only your baby Antoni could pull that off.” 

“It's not my fault Antoni reminds me of you, Cas.” 

“I can’t cook, Dean.”

“Oh, but if you could…” Dean’s laughing as he follows Cas out of the house and down the stairs. He pulls them together before they set off for the restaurant. “Doesn’t matter, Cas,” he kisses him. “My baby Antoni’s got nothin’ on you.” 

Cas shakes his head at Dean’s silly nickname for his favorite member of the Fab Five. It’s Cas’ fault for making Dean watch Queer Eye in the first place and he knows it. 

They hold hands as they walk in the dusky light, the sounds of their city surrounding them. It's familiar, and Dean realizes he missed it. He looks towards Cas, loving the way his grown out hair curls behind his ears and over his forehead, the shock of dark hair wild and fluttering in the evening breeze. 

He's beautiful. 

Dean holds Cas’ hand tighter. 

He's thrilled when Cas walks them to their favorite Ramen place, the perfect meal for their first night home. They're greeted and go straight for what's now become their table, the owners and their kids friendly with them. 

Their French fries and drinks are brought out and by the time their soup arrives, they're on their second bottle of saki. 

Cas takes advantage of the low light inside the restaurant and slips his foot out of his boot so he can run it up and down Dean's leg. Their fingers tangle together across the table. 

“Tomorrow, we could go over to your place and while you unpack, I’ll check out the roof. It’s so close to done but I know we need to make another Home Depot run,” Dean looks up from his food to see Cas biting his lip and staring at a spot on the table. 

He strokes his thumb over Cas’ knuckles. “Gotta go back sometime, babe. Might as well do it together,” he says gently, trying to work Cas up to the idea. He doesn’t know what words the brothers exchanged before they left for Tahoe but whatever it was, Cas doesn’t want to face it. 

He still hasn’t responded or looked at Dean. 

“Or we can talk about it in the morning, no need to decide now,” Dean settles things and judging by the way Cas finally looks back up at him, he’s all for letting them shelve the conversation. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas’ smile is grateful and he refills their saki glasses. “I know I’m being ridiculous but I just want to hold on to vacation one last night. I’ll be ready to go back to real life tomorrow, I promise.” 

“Works for me, Cas,” Dean leans back in his seat and gestures to their waiter. “We’re getting another bottle of saki, then.” 

Third bottle is a charm because they’re both slightly drunk and trying to pay the check and it’s possible they end up leaving a huge tip. They can’t keep their hands to themselves as they walk back to Dean’s and neither of them try, stopping in every dip of shadows along the sidewalk. 

Cas’ mouth is hot as he sucks at the curve of Dean’s neck, his hand creeping past Dean’s jacket so Cas can slip his hand under Dean’s shirt and thumb at one of his nipples. Dean sucks in a sharp breath and Cas’ mouth curves into a slick smile. 

“Did you leave room for dessert, Officer?” Cas’ voice is thick, gravelly with lust and still teasing. 

“It’s you, right, you’re dessert?” Dean knows he sounds fuckin’ wrecked and he does  _ not _ give a damn. 

Cas’ chuckle is dark when he separates them and pulls Dean behind him, ignoring Dean’s cries of protest. They round the corner to a brightly lit bakery and Cas looks back at him with a grin before he pushes open the door. Cinnamon and fresh brewed coffee overwhelm Dean’s senses and then Cas is planting him in a chair by the door before he’s at the counter, the woman behind it pushing a big white shopping bag into Cas’ hands with a wink. Cas returns his thanks with a quirk of his lips and a nod before they’re out the door again. 

Cas won’t tell him what’s inside the bag, instead trying to distract Dean by making him chase his lips the next few blocks home. 

It works because instead of opening the door for them, Dean pushes Cas into his dark entryway so they can explore each other’s mouths. Dean smiles when he remembers he doesn’t have to tell Cas goodnight and watch him walk away anymore. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” Dean mumbles into Cas’ mouth. Cas nods and takes the keys from Dean’s hands and Dean’s impressed at how quick he gets them up the stairs and inside the apartment. 

Cas makes straight for the kitchen to put away his secret dessert and Dean goes to his room to clear the bed off, still holding their abandoned travel bags. He knows they’re already there, but he checks his nightstand for lube and the condoms he bought before they went on their trip, both tucked back into his top drawer when they got home. Dean’s not trying to be presumptuous but tonight feels different.

“Dean.” 

He turns to find Cas, already approaching him with hooded eyes. He stops short in front of Dean and lets his eyes roam down from Dean's face, mapping out Dean's body with his eyes. Dean’s hot under his clothes but he stays still and copies his boyfriend, taking him in from head to toe. 

Dean's never really been mad about clothes before tonight. As amazing as Cas looks tonight, Dean wants to see what's underneath. 

He reaches forward to rub the corner of Cas’ shirt between his thumb and forefinger, the first to touch the other since they came inside. 

It's like a dam breaks when Cas pushes Dean's jacket off his shoulders, Dean shrugging out of it. It's tossed to the floor without another glance. 

Cas laugh is delightful when he sees the short sleeves of Dean's Zeppelin shirt rolled up. Dean rolls his eyes but blushes when Cas leans down to kiss Dean's arm where the sleeve ends, and then down to two of the more prominent freckles on Dean's bicep. 

“These two might be my favorite,” Cas kisses them again. “It's usually between these and the one on your throat.” Cas kisses that one next. “This one is very distracting,” he murmurs, his breath hot against the wet kisses he left on Dean's skin. “I constantly want to taste it.”

Dean whimpers and Cas smiles. He lets Dean unbutton him out of his shirt and it crumples at their feet with the jacket. “Does that happen to you as well Dean?” Cas scrapes fingers through Dean's hair. “Do you often find yourself distracted by the thought of tasting me?”

Dean groans out an affirmative and Cas is pleased and shows it by kissing Dean deep and hot, pulling them together with his hands still sunk into Dean's hair. 

Belts are being torn open and zippers and buttons being ripped at in the frenzy to get each other's pants off. Cas is better practiced at removing tight pants so he laughs against Dean's thighs as Dean tries to shimmy out of his while Cas pulls from down on his knees. 

With the pants finally off, much to both of their reliefs, Cas takes his time standing, first kissing Dean's inner thighs with sucking kisses. He runs his hands up and down Dean's legs once before he stands, both of them down to their t-shirts and underwear. 

Cas catches his eye and doesn't look away as he tugs his t-shirt over his head. Dean scrambles to follow and they're both letting their shirts drop to the floor before they're on each other. His skin is smooth and warm and Dean can't help but duck down to suck one of Cas’ pink nipples into his mouth. Cas moans, an open and wanting sound that goes straight to Dean’s dick as he works his mouth back to Cas’ throat, Cas’ Adam's apple bobbing under his tongue when Cas swallows. 

Cas’ hands roam Dean’s body and every drag of his palm leaves a burning trail across Dean’s bare skin. He captures Cas’ plush bottom lip between his teeth and he tugs, Cas whining before he sucks on Dean’s upper lip, biting into it and dragging his teeth off with a happy growl.

Dean laughs when Cas pushes him onto his back, a knee pressed between Dean's open legs. He scrambles up the bed and Cas follows, crawling over Dean’s sprawled body, straddling Dean’s thighs and putting both hands on Dean’s chest as he stares down at him. Cas’ eyes are wild and Dean wants him so fucking bad. 

Cas must see it in Dean’s eyes because he curves down to lick into Dean’s mouth, groaning when Dean opens for him with a hand to the back of Cas’ head. Dean runs his other hand up Cas’ side and Cas shivers under his touch. 

“Cas,” Dean drags his name out from under his tongue as he licks along the curve of Cas’ jaw, the hair of Cas’ beard tickling and holy fuck, Dean’ can’t stop himself from nuzzling his cheek against the soft hair much to Cas’ content. 

Dean will never admit to how long they rub their cheeks together, both of them huffing out laughs. 

“Feels good, babe.”

“Yeah?” Cas asks, his voice fond. “It’s kind of itchy.” 

“Shave it whenever you want, I’ll enjoy it tonight.” Dean rubs his nose along the edge of Cas’ jaw. 

“Maybe I’ll grow it back when it gets cold again,” he muses and the hair tickles Dean’s cheek when he talks. 

“Might keep your face warm when you’re on your bike,” Dean suggests. “Maybe I’ll grow mine out too. Gotta check department regs, first.” There’s a few guys on the force with beards, Dean thinks. He’ll have to remember to check.

Cas cups Dean’s cheek and guides Dean’s nose out of the crook of his neck, settling their gazes together. 

“I love you,” he tells Dean, sweet and soft. “I saw your results on the fridge.” 

Dean’s STD test results came the day before they left for Tahoe. He’d pinned them on the fridge after they got back, wanting Cas to see them. 

“I want you to know that I got mine back too, before we went on our trip. I—I had them—have them, with me.”

Dean had his tucked into his wallet. 

“I’m clean,” Cas looks over towards their bags, discarded on the floor. “I can get them.” Dean guides Cas’ chin back with his finger. 

“Show me later,” Dean tells him. He believes Cas, he trusts the man he loves. Call him an idiot but he knows if he wanted Cas to get that piece of paper out right this minute, he would. And it would confirm what he said. 

Dean doesn’t need it. 

“If you want to wear a condom, I’m ok with that. If you don’t, I’m ok with that, too.” Dean strokes a thumb over Cas’ cheek, his beard tickling. His eyes flick down to Cas’ carnation lips, kiss swollen and ready to be teased red and shiny. “I love you,” he says. “I know you’ll take care of me, Cas,” Dean reassures him, kissing him as a follow up to his words. 

Dean’s known forever that he wants to bottom for Cas, trusting him with that even before he knew for sure how he felt. Their sex life so far has been fucking stellar, for two men who haven’t even penetrated each other; Dean has zero complaints and would be content with keeping it that way if it was what Cas wanted. 

But based on the way Cas is looking at Dean, he doesn’t think it’s something Cas is even considering. It looks like it pains Cas to break their gaze as he reaches into Dean’s drawer for the lube. Dean turns his head and watches Cas pull out their favorite lube and a strip of condoms. His heart catches a little. He’s not disappointed, just—bummed. 

But Dean knows Cas will get there. And if he doesn’t, well, they can talk about it then. 

Dean wants to think about now. 

He thumbs at Cas’ hips when he comes back into Dean’s space, the condoms left on the nightstand and the lube dropped into the sheets next to Dean’s thigh. The bottle is cold and it’s thrilling against Dean’s overheated skin. 

Dean’s aching to have their bodies pressed together with nothing between them and he pushes his thumbs under the waistband of Cas’ black briefs. As delicious as he looks in them, Dean wants them off so he can get Cas into his mouth. He grips Cas’ hips and pulls him up his chest towards his mouth. Cas sucks in a breath but lets Dean guide him, shuffling his knees as Dean guides him. His cock is straining against his tight briefs and Dean’s mouth waters when Cas rocks his hips forward to brush his thick length against Dean’s parted lips. Dean darts his tongue out. 

Dean lifts his head and Cas helps him by sliding a pillow under his neck so Dean’s head is at a comfortable angle. Cas shuffles back so as not to hit Dean as he pulls his thick cock out of his briefs. He tucks them under his balls and Dean licks his lips. Dean wants Cas filling his mouth, wants him down his throat. 

Cas drags the tip of his wet cock against his lips and Dean tries hard not to whine when Cas finally nudges Dean’s lips open. Dean’s tongue is waiting, ready between his teeth to dart out and dip into the crease of Cas’ cock that he’s been teasing Dean with for the last five minutes. Cas’ salty-sweet pre-come is gathered in his slit replacing what Cas spread over Dean’s lips. Dean licks it out and groans around Cas’ cock as he slides the head into Dean’s waiting mouth. Dean spreads his lips around Cas’ thick cock, loving the stretch and he lets his tongue roll against the ridge of his head. 

Cas thumbs at Dean’s stretched lips and Dean looks up into Cas’ black eyes, his face intense as he watches Dean suck him.

Dean slides his hands around Cas’ ass and encourages him to move, kneading and pushing at Cas’ ass. Cas’ eyes seem to clear and he’s able to focus on Dean’s face. He pulls out a bit and Dean furrows his brow. Cas’s gazes softens. 

“I don’t want to come yet,” Cas says, shy and wanting. 

Dean presses back to let Cas’ cock slip out of his mouth but he keeps his lips pressed to the tip with a kiss. Cas moans but he pulls back, shuffling back down Dean’s body. They spend time kissing except Cas is hovering over Dean, his dick heavy between them. Cas won’t let Dean touch and it’s infuriating and hot and his body is confused but he really fucking likes it. 

The whimper that leaves his throat just confirms it. 

Cas kisses down to the source of the sound, stopping only to suck at the hollow of Dean’s throat, right around his favorite freckle. He smiles as if he can read Dean’s mind. 

Skilled hands remove Dean’s underwear, and  _ finally _ , Cas’ own and Dean thrusts his hips and spreads his legs, only to be stilled by Cas’ firm hand. 

“Cas,” Dean whines but only for a second before Cas’ mouth is on his, sucking on Dean’s bottom lip.

Cas drags his teeth all the way off Dean’s lip. “You said you’d let me take care of you, Dean,” he says against Dean’s chest as he makes his way south, his breath hot. “Remember when I said I wanted to make you scream when we got home?” He’s talking as he makes his way down Dean’s body and every word against his skin makes Dean shake. “God, look at you, you’re falling apart and I haven’t even gotten my tongue inside you,” Cas tisks and bites into the meat of Dean’s thigh. 

“Cas, fuck—”  Dean can’t help but squirm. 

“That’s the idea, isn’t it?” Cas raises his inquisitive eyes from Dean’s cock to Dean’s eyes and waits for an answer. 

Dean groans and nods, “yes, hell yes, babe.” His whole body vibrates in anticipation and stimulation from Cas as he licks and sucks his way between Dean’s legs. Now Dean’s spread out below him and he waits for Cas to take what’s his. 

Cas’ stare burns Dean’s skin, his eyes flicking over every freckle and blemish and scar on Dean’s body. There’s reverence in Cas’ eyes and love in his touch as he strokes over every single one of Dean’s insecurities, including some he can’t even see. 

_ This is it. Cas is it for him.  _

Dean’s breath hitches when Cas settles on his knees and pushes Dean’s legs open, spreading them as wide. He sighs under Cas’ stare.

Cas puts a touch of pressure to open Dean’s legs further and Dean grunts, which makes Cas frown. 

“Would you be adverse to joining me for yoga?” 

Dean raises an eyebrow at him.

“You’d be surprised at how heightened your pleasure becomes the wider you can open your hips,” Cas muses with an attempted honest face, his dirty little thoughts racing behind cobalt eyes. 

“Count me in,” Dean twists his lips into a smirk. “Kinky fucker.” 

“You’ll be thanking me after I make you come so hard you black out.”

“Promises, promises, darlin’,” Dean teases, his chuckle breaking into a moan when Cas dips down and seals his lips around Dean’s hole in a sucking kiss. The pull of Cas’ lips makes Dean’s stomach flip and he cries out. 

Cas pulls away from Dean’s ass with a growl. “Let me hear you, Dean. Tell me what you want, I want to make you feel good,” Cas bites the swell of Dean’s ass. “Please don’t hold back,” he begs. 

Cas would ask for earmuffs if he could hear Dean’s internal dialogue. Downright incoherent half the time. It sucked being quiet in Tahoe too, Dean too afraid of traumatizing his little brother. But now they’re home and fuck, Cas’ mouth feels so good so if he wants to hear what Dean thinks about that, Dean’s not gonna deprive him. 

“You wanna hear me Cas?” Dean pants and tips his hips up to spread his legs open a bit more, finding it easier as he relaxes. “You want me to tell you what I want?” 

Cas moans, the rumble of it spreading down Dean’s thighs. His tongue rolls against Dean’s pucker and his beard rubs against Dean’s ass. Dean’s eyes roll back as Cas presses the tip of his tongue against Dean’s hole, pushing inside slow, his breath hot; Cas’ hands on his things holding Dean still and open. 

“Yes, yes, fuck yes, Cas, holy shit,” Dean’s babbling, his hands gripping the sheets. His cock is hot and pulsing against his belly, a shiny pool of pre-come already dripping down Dean’s sides. He’s not gonna touch unless Cas tells him to—it’s more fun that way. 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean chokes out. “Lick me open baby, get me ready for your cock.” 

Cas wants to hear him, he’s gonna fuckin’ hear it all. If Cas’ filthy groan and enthusiastic licking is anything to go by, he likes what he’s hearing. 

“Yeah, oh fuck—Cas, baby, did you know you’re the first person to ever—ah, fuck—to ever do this to me?” 

Cas pauses and whips his head up, his grin fucking devilish. 

_ Why is that so fucking hot? _

He dives back between Dean’s legs with more enthusiasm, his licks dripping wet, the sound fucking pornographic and so fucking sexy. Dean pushes his limits and spreads his legs wider, Cas licking deeper.

“Yeah, oh Dean,” Cas groans against Dean’s stretched hole, worked open by Cas’ persistence. Dean cries out his name when Cas slips a finger inside, Dean so relaxed he makes it to his second knuckle before he slides back out, the drag sweet and smooth. 

“God, look at you,” Cas slides another finger inside of Dean and his body accepts it with a whine from Dean. Dean’s eyes are screwed shut and he’s completely lost in Cas. 

Cas crooks his fingers and finds Dean’s prostate like a fuckin’ pro and Dean moans long and deep while Cas fucks him like this, spread open on what is now three of Cas’ fingers. Each twist of Cas’ wrist punches the air out of Dean and he clutches Cas’ arm as his muscles ripple under his thrusts. 

Cas only pauses to pour lube into his palm so it can slide down his fingers that are still buried inside of Dean. Dean pants and squirms as Cas lets the lube slide down his fingers and coat them before he’s moving again. He takes time to spread his fingers apart, stretching Dean open until he can’t think he can take another minute. 

“Cas, please, I want you to fuck me,” Dean’s hips roll and Cas stills at Dean’s request. He keeps his fingers deep inside of Dean,  _ fuck— _ Dean can feel Cas’ wet palm against his ass—and continues to stroke his walls, occasionally brushing fingers against his prostate and driving Dean fucking insane without moving his hand. 

Dean finally cracks an eye open to see Cas staring between Dean’s legs, his bottom lip losing the battle against his teeth. Dean’s cock is red and leaking and fuck, he’ll come if Cas even looks at him for too long. Cas’ other hand strokes Dean’s stomach and hip to soothe him. Dean grabs it and kisses the tips of Cas’ fingers before sucking two into his mouth and finally getting his boyfriends eyes up to his face. 

Now that he has an audience, Dean slides his wet mouth slowly off Cas’ fingers before kissing the tips again and watching as Cas’ eyes become more hooded. Cas moves automatically when he leans between Dean’s legs and kisses him, still keeping his fingers inside of Dean but now dragging them in and out impossibly slow. Cas’ kisses are sweet and heady and he nips at Dean’s lower lip. 

“You’re beautiful, the way you open up for me,” Cas’ praise is like liquid honey in Dean’s stomach. “Are you ready, how does it feel?”

Dean’s been ready since he met Cas. 

He reaches up to pull their mouths back together and Dean kisses with as much intent as he can find before he breaks them apart. “Perfect, you’re perfect Cas, please. I want you inside me, want you to fuck me.” 

Cas kisses him again, hot and searching and Dean kisses back, his moans filling Cas’ mouth as he strokes Dean a few more times from the inside before pulling out and pressing a thumb to Dean’s open hole, the finger slipping in with ease. Cas smiles when he settles in front of Dean to press the head of his thick cock against Dean’s rim. 

Before he pushes inside, he wraps his arms around Dean’s thighs and looks at him, sheer joy on his face. 

“I love you so much, Dean,” Cas pants. 

Dean thinks a tear slips out as Cas pushes in past the ring of muscle and far enough that Dean can feel the weight of Cas’ thick head sitting inside him. Cas moves slow, spreading Dean open with his dick while Dean breathes and Cas whispers more awe and appreciation into Dean’s skin. He kisses the inside of Dean’s calves as he slides in until finally, he’s flush against Dean’s body. 

Dean’s never felt so full. Cas stills, waits, and then leans down, Dean’s legs trapped between them as he moves in for a kiss. Cas moves slow and Dean can feel his hips rising off the bed as Cas bends him in half, his cock sliding deeper inside Dean than he thought possible.

“Oh fuck, oh  _ fuck _ —Cas, god damn—”  

Cas eases up but Dean claws at his shoulders, not wanting to lose their momentum because fuck, this feels incredible and Dean wants Cas to push him further than he thinks he can go. 

Dean wants Cas to make him feel new again.

“You’re amazing Dean,” Cas whispers. “Breathe for me, baby.” 

_ Oh fuck, the things it does to Dean and his already suffering dick when Cas calls him baby.  _

Dean takes a slow, dragging breath through his nose, the oxygen shooting heat up his curled spine. Cas eases back and starts to move, slow rolls of his hips as he slides his cock in and out of Dean, each roll making Dean moan low in his throat. 

Dean’s made of stars, his entire body lit up as Cas moves inside of him, their bodies coming together in a burning dance. Cas holds him as he guides Dean back down, finally wrapping Dean’s bow legs around his hips. He pushes into Dean, the sensation different from this angle but still so fucking  _ good _ , because Cas is murmuring Dean’s name under his breath as he fucks him and in this moment, nothing else in the world matters. 

It’s just them, Dean and Cas, and nothing can touch them and none of their problems exist because all that matters is the way Cas moans his name and the way Dean’s breath hitches. He fuckin’ loves Cas, loves him so much. 

“I love you too, Dean, more than anything,” Cas chokes out. Guess he was talking out loud but Dean’s being fucked so good, he isn’t surprised to be incoherent. The thought makes him laugh, oh fuck, he’s laughing and Cas takes him in, a soft smile on his face as he watches Dean. 

“I’m sorry—ah, sorry,” Dean grabs at Cas’ shoulders to pull him down, wrapping his arms around Cas to laugh into his shoulder. “I’m just fucking happy, fuck—”  

“Yes, can we get back to that?” Cas asks with a huff and a sharp roll of his hips. He sucks Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth with a grin and Dean decides to stop talking and kiss his boyfriend back. 

“Well, what are you waiting for,” Dean teases and Cas’ gets a really sexy gleam in his eye and he looks down his nose at Dean before raising an eyebrow. 

_ Shit.  _

Dean sucks in a noisy breath when Cas pushes one of his legs up to fuck deeper into him. It’s fucking incredible when Cas snaps his hips, punching breathy moans out of Dean. 

Long fingers slide down his leg to bend his knee and Dean keens and bucks off the pillow when Cas bites the curve of his bare foot.

“Mother fucker,” Dean bursts out when Cas drops his foot with a wicked grin before he drops down and slides his arms under Dean’s shoulders to wrap Dean up in his strong grip. Dean opens his legs and digs his heels into Cas’ back while Cas fucks him with deep, grinding thrusts, his hands digging into Dean’s shoulders. 

Dean’s cock is trapped between them, slippery and wet and aching to be touched. He rolls his hips up to match Cas’ strokes and Cas moans against Dean’s neck, his head buried there, his mouth sucking bruises into Dean’s skin. 

“Dean, oh baby—” Cas’ voice hitches. “You’re so tight, so perfect,” His words trail into brazen moans as he rocks into Dean. Cas’ mouth comes to claim Dean’s and his groans mix with Dean’s as they kiss, tongues twisting and swallowing the ecstasy spilling from their lips. 

Cas’ hips are stuttering and Dean digs his heels in, Cas crying out his name as he moves.

Dean lifts his hips and arches up to Cas’ mouth. “Wanna feel you come, Cas,” Dean whispers.

Cas grabs him by the back of the neck and crashes their mouths together with a shout and a snap of his hips. Dean feels Cas’ thick cock erupt, heat spreading through him and Cas pulsing inside him and fuck,  _ fuck,  _ Dean wants to come. 

Cas licks deep into his mouth with a whine in the back of his throat and his hands are still gripping Dean, one at the back of his neck and the other buried in his hair. He’s stopped moving and Dean rocks his hips, desperate for friction back against his aching dick. 

Dean tugs at Cas’ hair, making him growl and kiss Dean harder, letting his hips roll painfully slow while he licks and sucks at Dean’s lips. He takes pity and rocks back to his knees, Dean’s legs falling open, cool air hitting his overheated cock and making him moan and twist in the sheets. 

“You’re fucking beautiful, Dean,” Cas says with reverence. “Your blush, fuck, I love you,” Cas’ want is clear, even with his come dripping out of Dean and Dean cries out when Cas takes his desperate, swollen cock in his mouth. 

Cas’ mouth is halfway down his shaft when Cas slips two fingers inside of Dean, slick with Cas’ own come. Dean jerks his hips and Cas moans when the head of Dean’s cock hits the back of his throat. He slides his mouth up and down Dean’s shaft, his mouth hot and slippery, his fingers sliding in and out of Dean and fuck, when he looks, he knows he’s gonna fuckin’ lose it. 

His eyes meet Cas’, wild with lust as he sucks Dean’s cock, his pink lips stretched around him. Cas’ eyes flutter shut when he swallows around Dean’s dick and then he’s coming, Cas’ groan wet as he sucks every drop from Dean that he can while Dean babbles about Cas and loving him and his heart and every good feeling he’s ever had not being anywhere as good as this. 

“Except last night, when you told me you loved me,” Dean mumbles, his body spent and his mind drifting and buzzing from the best fucking sex he’s ever had with the man he loves. 

_ What in the hell were they waiting for? _

Cas is licking him clean, his long tongue curling around Dean’s dick, while he slowly slides his fingers out of Dean. Dean sighs at the emptiness and shifts but Cas stills him with a press of his lips to Dean’s cock. 

“Are you ok?” Cas asks between strokes of his tongue, now licking Dean’s stomach clean. 

“M’ fuckin’ perfect, Cas,” Dean replies, licking his lips as he watches Cas lick the come from his body. If Dean just hadn’t had his brains fucked out, he’d want to get round two started now. It doesn’t help, but it’s welcome when Cas finally kisses him, his lips salty with Dean’s release. Dean licks Cas’ lips, sucking each one into his mouth and licking inside as Cas groans. 

The kissing stops too soon for Dean when Cas rolls away from him. He protests and Cas silences him with another kiss.

“You forgot about dessert already?” Cas asks before his perky ass is leaving Dean’s room and Dean’s watching it go. 

He’s too fucked to move, so it’s not his fault at all when he dozes off, jerking awake at the sound of Cas clearing his throat and the smell of cinnamon and apples. 

If someone asked Dean what his idea of Heaven would be, all he’d have to describe is this moment: Cas standing naked at the foot of his bed, miles of golden skin stretching over thick muscle, Cas’ gorgeous cock hanging between his legs and best of all, Cas wearing pot holders that look like dinosaurs (sometimes Dean buys weird shit on Amazon when he’s drunk, so what) with a steaming apple pie in his hands. 

Dean looks at Cas who’s grinning his cute face off and he has to ask. 

“This probably isn’t the right time to propose, huh?” 


	22. Chapter 22

Cas doubles over in laughter and the sound bubbles over Dean and makes him want Cas back in bed immediately.

Dean reaches for him but pauses. “Cas, not to be a prude or nothin’, not after what we just did but uh, where are you stashing our forks?”

“Are you always this funny after sex?” Cas winks when he sets the pie down on the bed, the smell making Dean consider not even bothering with utensils.

They’re hidden inside the pot holders, _clever boyfriend,_ and together they sit, the pie between them as they laugh and fight over the size of the pieces Cas is eating, Dean complaining they’re “oversized” and that Cas is “taking all the good pieces of apple.”

“If I’d known you were this fussy over pie, I’d have gotten you a cake.”

Dean gasps. “And you say you love me,” he flops back onto the bed in agony. Cas pulls the pie tin closer with a shrug.

“Bastard, don’t even think about it,” Dean sneaks his hand over to the tin to tug it back. Cas only gives it up when Dean kisses him.

He's still fussing at Cas over the pie when a chunk of filling falls from Dean's fork to the inside of his thigh. They both watch it slide before Dean is moving the tin out of the way as Cas moves down to lick the sweet, sticky fruit from Dean's skin, sucking a small mark there before he looks back at Dean, his gaze growing dark.

Dean offers him the pie tin with a smirk and Cas returns it as he scoops more left over filling onto his fingers before spreading it over Dean's belly, only to drop down and lick Dean clean with his clever tongue.

Dean's not even mad when they have to get up and change the sheets, now sticky from pie and other… things.

Sleep comes with Cas using Dean's stomach as a pillow, Dean's hand carded through his hair. He can't believe this is his life, especially looking at the man in his arms, a man who says he loves Dean and fuck, how is this Dean's fucking life?

Dean falls asleep to the sound of Cas’ sweet snores and the idea that this is his, that this is their life to do something with.

Together.

***

Waking up with Cas in his arms has quickly risen to the top of Dean’s Favorite Things. This morning, Cas’ face is buried in the curve of Dean’s neck, warm puffs of air against his skin; Cas’ soft curls sticking up in tufts and tickling Dean’s cheek.

Cas’ hair smells like citrus; a bottle of his orange peel shampoo now resides in Dean’s shower.

They’re both naked and Cas has one of his thick thighs tucked between Dean’s legs and his arm is draped over Dean’s stomach, his hand curled around Dean’s hip—possessive bastard. Dean wiggles in Cas’ hold and it tightens, his fingers clenching and leg pressing into Dean, Cas’ mouth opening to suckle at Dean’s neck.

Dean groans and tightens his own hold on Cas, his hand sliding up Cas’ arm to squeeze his bicep, his other hand slipping down over the curve of Cas’ firm ass to hitch him closer. Cas rolls his hips and Dean can feel his erection growing.

Cas is sliding down Dean’s body, his mouth dragging wet trails down Dean’s neck, settling over one of Dean’s nipples. Dean arches his back when Cas sucks his nipple into his mouth, his teeth tugging around it, his tongue flicking it. Dean whimpers Cas’ name, hoping for mercy but receiving none because Cas doesn’t relent, only sliding over to Dean’s other nipple to show it the same treatment.

He cries out when long fingers wrap around his aching cock, Cas gripping him tight and stroking him.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas moans against his chest. He surges up to kiss Dean, his wet lips slipping against Dean’s with a filthy slide of his tongue. “I love to hear you, baby.”

“Fuck,” Dean groans, heat filling his belly. “Love when you call me that,” his hips jerk when Cas tugs on the head of his cock. Cas squeezes him in response and nips at Dean’s lips. Dean opens his mouth to Cas who sighs when he finally slips his tongue inside. Dean kisses back with a moan and enjoys the slide of their tongues together, Cas’ mouth hot and tasting like sleep.

Cas pulls away, his mouth dragging across Dean’s cheek. “Your mouth is perfect, all mine,” Cas asks with a rise to his voice, seeking Dean’s acceptance at his need for some control.

“Yeah, babe, yours,” Dean pants out, his orgasm close and licking at his edges. Cas grips him at the base of his dick before he ducks down, his mouth engulfing the head of Dean’s cock.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean hisses out, his hands shooting into Cas’ hair as his hips buck up. Cas’ mouth is hot and wet and sucking at his head while Cas’ hand twists around Dean’s cock, stroking up and down, using his own spit to ease the slide of his hand. It still comes with a lovely drag that has Dean’s breath hitching in the back of his throat.

“Gonna come,” he tugs on Cas’ hair. Blue eyes fly open and Cas bobs his mouth lower, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing around Dean’s cock, only closing his eyes when Dean’s release fills his mouth.

Cas whines, his mouth still full of Dean’s pulsing cock, when Dean clenches his fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands with each roll of his hips. One last, long suck up Dean’s cock and Cas pulls off, kissing the tip before coming back up to Dean’s lips so he can lick deep into his mouth.

Dean’s boneless when Cas kisses him, covering his face with them as he runs his fingers through Dean’s hair. “Dean,” he huffs against Dean’s jaw. “Can I—I want—” He struggles with voicing his request and Dean wants to give him everything.

“Whatever you want, Cas,” Dean assures him, nuzzling into the soft spot behind Cas’ ear. “Take what you want, I’m yours,” he reminds him.

Cas sucks in a breath and kisses Dean hard before shuffling up to his knees beside Dean, stroking his cock with his eyes focused on Dean’s mouth. Dean licks his lips and stares at Cas’ hand pulling at the head of his dick and he wants him. He leans in, mouth open and Cas groans and rocks his hips forward to meet Dean’s mouth.

The soft head of Cas’ cock slips past his lips and Dean groans, Cas’ musky scent flooding his senses. His mouth waters when he remembers the last place Cas’ cock was buried.

Dean’s jaw goes slack against Cas’ hard shaft, heavy on his tongue, the taste of him heady and thick. Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair and Dean’s throat hitches, causing Cas to suck in a sharp breath.

“You’re beautiful, Dean,” Cas tells him as he thumbs at Dean’s cheek. “I dream about your lips stretched around my cock, and here you are, making it my reality.” Cas rocks his hips, slow to let Dean adjust to the length and the way Cas’ cock nudges the back of his throat. He swallows around it, his throat making a desperate sound and Cas moans his name, over and over while he fucks Dean’s mouth.

He’s getting lost in the sensation, the drag of Cas’ cock on his tongue and how the salty sweet flavor of his pre-come makes Dean’s mouth water. He loves the feeling of Cas’ balls brushing his chin and the way Cas gets lost in the pleasure Dean’s giving him is incredible.

Dean can only hold on, one hand gripping Cas’ hip and the other dug into the round globe of Cas’ firm ass. He lets his fingers stretch and knead until they are close enough to brush against Cas’ hole and fuck, Cas makes the most beautiful cry as he comes down Dean’s throat, each jerk of his hips punching broken moans from Dean’s throat.

Cas pulls his cock out and a spurt of come lands on Dean’s cheek. Cas groans and strokes his cock, squeezing another pearl of come from the tip. Dean looks at it and leans forward to suck it from Cas’ cock before it slides down.

Cas growls and grips Dean’s chin, tipping it up to stare at Dean through hooded eyes. Dean’s slack jawed and floating, his only focus on Cas’ face. He smiles, slow and licks his lips clean while Cas watches. Cas leans in and licks away the drop of come on Dean’s cheek.

His face softens as he stares at Dean and his hand cradles Dean’s cheek as he lays back with his boyfriend. Dean works his jaw back and forth, trying to combat the stiffness that usually comes with this kind of fun.

“All right?” Cas murmurs as he kisses along Dean’s jaw, tender brushes of his lips.

“M’so good, babe,” Dean sighs. “Love you so much.” He stretches his back and tilts his head, inviting Cas to kiss his exposed neck. Cas doesn’t disappoint, making small circles with the tip of his tongue as he smiles against Dean’s skin.

He lifts his head to peer at Dean. ‘I’m hungry,” he reports. Cas’ cheeks are flushed and his lips swollen and Dean’s never gonna get tired of looking at him.

He nods. “Some breakfast sandwiches from Fable sound good,” Dean suggests, making Cas’ eyes light up. “Call Meg, I’ll go pick them up so you can stay naked,” he tries to sound nonchalant as he tosses Cas his cell phone. Cas’ eyes are smiling when he catches it and slides it open, swiping quick to dial the restaurant.

Dean gets up to use the restroom, brush his teeth, and pull on clothes, nothing more than some running shorts and a tank, the day already warm beyond their dark and air conditioned room. He doesn’t shower after Cas tells him the food will be ready in less than ten minutes, instead spraying and walking through some cologne before he goes.

Cas watches him move around the room, holding out a pair of Ray-Bans for Dean when he’s about to leave. He pulls Dean close before he goes. “Your dick looks huge in those shorts.”

_Jesus Christ, they aren’t that fuckin’ tight._

Dean smirks and rolls his hips. “Gotta show the gruesome twosome what they’re missing.”

“You’re such a tease.” Cas rolls over to open his nightstand, pulling out some different weed containers. “They’ll just see you as a challenge, now,” he warns.

“They wish,” Dean teases with one last stroke down his stomach before he walks down the hall laughing.

“Be careful with that thing, Officer,” Cas calls out to him, causing Dean to crack up as he shuts the door behind him.

He admires the new photos Max has up; various close ups of cakes and pies. It reminds him of the night before and he smirks when he slips on his sunglasses and walks outside. A few steps later finds him inside Fable, a low bass playing from the kitchen area and neither Meg nor Balthazar anywhere to be found. Dean leans over the hostess stand and taps his fingers against the podium.

He hears them before he sees them, a sniffing noise in his ear alerting him to a small presence.

“You smell like sex.” Another sniff makes Dean side step away from Meg. “Expensive sex.”

“That’s Armani, darling,” Balthazar purrs as he breezes past Dean, getting his sniff on in his much more subtle way.

“Jeez, Dean-o, at least after we’ve spent the morning humping, we have enough class to take a shower,” Meg states, her arms crossing over her chest.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, is our food ready or what? I left a naked artist in my bed that I’d like to get back to, if you two don’t mind.”

Meg raises an interested eyebrow.

“Nuh uh, nope,” Dean shakes his head. “Don’t get any ideas. I heard about your little,” he points a finger and wiggles it between the couple. “Your little proposition.” He huffs. “You didn’t think to include me in that discussion? Rude, if you ask me.”

He takes a second to enjoy their shocked faces as he leaves with a wink. Dean’s not a tease but he knows it would take a lot of alcohol to make that happen, even if it’s easy to admit the two of them are hot. He’s still not ready to share Cas, doesn’t know if he’ll ever be but it’s a nice ego boost to think they might have the occasion if they want it.

He’s smiling when he brings the food back inside, finding Cas moved to the nest, still naked but now packing a nice sized bowl for them to share before they eat. Dean drops the bags on the kitchen table and strips out of his clothes before he gathers everything they need to eat.

“Meg and Balthazar say hello, thirsty assholes.”

Cas looks at his phone. “Meg said you seemed into it.”

Dean rolls his eyes and plucks Cas’ phone out of his hands to put it out of arm's reach. “I called them out for only propositioning you,” he smirks. “And then I winked at them and left.”

Cas gives him an even look. “They won’t rest until they have you.”

“Too bad they have to get through my hot boyfriend to get to me,” Dean leans between Cas’ knees to kiss him. “He’s not really the sharing type.”

Cas growls and wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders. “Mine,” he says with a nip to Dean’s lips.

“Possessive bastard,” Dean murmurs and loves it. Everytime Cas calls claim to him, it makes Dean shiver.

They smoke a few bowls and laze around, thoughts of working on Cas’ roof gone when they find a carafe of peach mimosas and small bottle of lube with a note that Cas opens and reads. He laughs and tosses the bottle to Dean.

“It’s marijuana infused lube,” he grins. “Baz was texting me about it, a friend makes it for her shop and infuses a coconut oil based lube with THC. He said it makes sex fucking phenomenal, darling,” Cas’ impression of Balthazar isn’t bad but Dean doesn’t love that this is what their conversations are about.

“Maybe we can try it later, you could use it to ride my cock,” Cas suggests, like he’s asking Dean if he wants to watch a movie or what time he wants to go to Home Depot. He’s gonna give Dean fucking whiplash, between how quickly he can change subjects and how fiercely Dean nods in agreement.

They’re completely useless and taking advantage of an extra day to do nothing, Dean agreeing three episodes into a Queer Eye re-watch that this was the better way to spend their day.

Cas opens him up with their new lube and it’s so tingly and good and Cas’ fingers are so thick, Dean comes stretched around them. Cas makes himself come, jacking off over Dean’s spent body and then cleaning it with his tongue.

_Dean fucking loves vacation._

They don’t make it to Cas’ until the following day, only to find a note from Gabriel taped to Cas’ bedroom door telling him he’d be in Los Angeles for the foreseeable future.

“That usually means two weeks, tops,” Cas says as he crumples the note and tosses it in the trash. The house is clean, at least and Cas seems pleased by that. Dean doesn’t mention the way his shoulders relaxed when he found the note.

They spend the day working on the roof. The space is coming along, Dean’s happy to see Cas has been out there adding his personality to the walls. Dean painted them an off white per Cas’ request and he’s added life, splashes of color and long solid lines. He can’t wait to sit out there surrounded by Cas’ art and the lights of the city.

The space is big enough to fit a full patio table with wooden benches. Dean sits to make a shopping list. He’s built an overhang to cover the table, exposed wood beams under a plexi roof so they can sit out here even in the temperamental San Francisco weather. Dean needs to grab some rope for the hanging lights he’s going to make and the table could probably use another coat of finish so he makes a note to grab another can as he sits in the shade.

Cas hums while he fusses with the planter boxes Dean built him, now full of succulents and cacti Cas has been collecting. He bought a small pallet of plants in Tahoe which Dean dutifully carried home for him. The sun glints off Cas’ sunglasses while he digs in the long boxes full of soil, transferring his plants to their new home. It’s simple and quiet and Dean savors the moment while he looks over the space again.

“You know what would be fuckin’ awesome up here?”

Cas lifts his head to look at Dean. “What are you thinking, Dean?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

_Fuck, he’s cute._

“A beehive.” Dean points to the corner of the space, opposite Cas’ planters. He was thinking of putting in a smoker but he’d be willing to give it up if Cas wants bees. “Bet I could build it.”

Cas’ face lets Dean know he needs to start Googling beehives. A wide, gummy smile spreads across it as he drops the trowel he’s using before crossing the roof to drop into Dean’s lap. Cas presses open mouth kisses to Dean’s jaw and a low heat stirs in his lower back when Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck.

“Oh, Dean, I’ve _always_ wanted to keep my own bees and the city of San Francisco does not prohibit urban beekeeping.” The excitement in Cas’ voice is clear in between kisses. “This will require research,” he advises with a roll of his hips.

Dean groans when Cas nips at his earlobe. “You’re such a nerd,” Dean pants. “It’s so fuckin’ hot.”

Cas chokes on a moan and drags his teeth over Dean’s chin, nibbling at the curve of his neck. “I really want to suck you off but,” he licks a stripe down Dean’s hitching throat. “I’m also starving.”

He stills his hips. Dean’s trying not to laugh.

“Shut up, I know,” Cas rolls his eyes and climbs out of Dean’s lap. “You have something I can eat.”

Dean cackles and follows Cas inside. “Babe, come on. Easy fuckin’ sausage joke, you set it right up.”

They cross the bridge to get to Home Depot in Emeryville but only because Dean wants to take Cas for burgers at Eureka! up in Berkeley afterwards. Dean’s thrilled to find it’s Beer and Bacon Happy Hour when they arrive.

They order too much food and drink too many beers, their fingers tangled over the table, Cas pulling Dean’s sandal off with his foot so he can rub their feet together under the table. Knees pressed together, Dean smiles at the way they’re touching however they can.

They end up _killing_ Sunday Night Trivia and they get a gift certificate for a free round of bacon and beer the next time they visit. Dean thinks it might be cool to bring Sam and Charlie. Shit, between all the couples, he’s gonna have to let Sam drive the Impala while him and Cas take the bike. He tells Cas his plan while they walk around Downtown Berkeley, holding hands and window shopping, the sun setting behind them.

There’s a concert at the Jazz Conservatory and they settle outside, a cup of coffee flavored gelato between them as they lean against the side of the building and listen.

It’s a great way to end their vacation. Dean’s never spent time with another person like this, just for the sake of enjoying each other. He wondered how soon Cas would want to go home without Dean once they got back and he’s happy Cas wanted to stay.

Dean drives them home, Cas under his arm and the lights of the Bay Bridge shining in their windows. Cas looks ethereal under the white light and Dean holds him tighter, sighing when Cas tips his head up to kiss Dean’s jaw.

He’s full on working a hickey into Dean’s shoulder by the time they get back to his house and almost entirely in Dean’s lap and Dean rips at his seatbelt after he throws the Impala into park. It’s dark in the garage and Dean slides over to pull Cas the rest of the way into his lap.

“Take me upstairs, Dean,” Cas whines into his mouth when they finally part. The windows of the Impala are damp and foggy. Both of them are breathing hard and pressed against each other, their shirts damp and rucked up thanks to their wandering hands. Dean rolls Cas’ nipple between his fingers and Cas moans.

Cas is so hard under his shorts and Dean wants him but it’s getting fucking hot inside the car and he has an air conditioned bed he can take Cas apart in right above his head. Dean shoves the door open with a moan, pulling them both out. Cas pushes him against the door of the Impala, biting his exposed collar bone and ripping his tank off.

His chest heaves as he stares at Dean’s exposed chest, flushed from the heat and Cas’ mouth and the way he’s staring makes Dean weak. Dean rushes him and Cas turns, taking off up the stairs. God, the fucking chase; Cas knows what it does to them both.

Dean crowds Cas against his front door as he fumbles to put the key in the lock, finally succeeding when Cas helps guide it in.

The rest of their clothes don’t make it to the bedroom.

They fall on top of the duvet together, the down feather cushioning their tangled bodies. It’s like Cas is kissing the life out of Dean, and he’s ready to die because what could be better than being wanted this much by a man like Cas? God damn, Dean _knows_ he’s a lucky son of a bitch.

When Cas whispers in Dean’s ear that he wants them to suck each other off at the same time, Dean has to grip the base of his dick so he doesn’t come right there. Cas just gives him a wicked grin and pushes him down by the shoulder, kissing Dean hot, sucking Dean’s tongue into his mouth with a groan. He sucks on Dean’s lower lip before he’s twisting his body, and fuck—  it’s almost elegant the way Cas’ body turns and rolls and Dean can’t help but admire the way his tattoos shift over muscle and then, Cas’s gorgeous cock is in front of him, hard and waiting to be tasted and Dean doesn’t hesitate before he sucks the head into his mouth.

Cas does the same, his cry broken against Dean’s shaft and Dean can feel the vibration in his bones. Cas’ mouth is hot around his cock and Dean rolls his hips, feeling Cas suck against the slide of him.

Dean hums and moans around Cas’ dick with each slide of his tongue and pull of his mouth. Cas is thrumming with pleasure, his mouth eager and hot and absolutely devouring Dean’s cock. The room fills with the sound of their desire, neither of them trying to be quiet, moans vibrating in the back of their throats while they enjoy each other’s bodies.

Cas pulls off to lick around the head of Dean’s cock, sucking at the vein, running the tip of his tongue up and down the length. “Tell me when you’re close baby, I want to taste you.”

Dean hums and pulls his mouth off Cas’ thick cock, licking around the head wetly, dipping his tongue into Cas’ slit and Cas’ hips jerk and he spreads his thighs open wider. Dean strokes down his length and cups his balls, pulling them with the pressure he knows Cas likes.

It’s next to impossible to concentrate because Cas is coming apart, breathy moans mixed with Dean’s name spilling from his mouth as Dean licks his cock and slips his hand further back to brush his fingers around Cas’ exposed hole.

“Dean,” Cas cries out and his cock pulses into Dean’s open mouth, Cas hot come splashing against Dean’s tongue and lips while he comes, and fuck, it’s sliding down his chin. One last pulse of release smears across Dean’s face and Cas hisses when Dean’s hand wraps around his spent dick so he can rub it against his lips.

Cas moans hot against Dean’s shaft and he grunts, trying to hold back until Cas is ready for him to come. Dean kisses Cas’ softening cock and groans when Cas pulls away to kneel between Dean’s legs. He drops down and nuzzles into the crease of Dean’s hip, pressing his soft lips to Dean’s thin skin.

Cas looks at Dean before he rocks up and then Cas is kissing him, Dean shuddering at the pressure, his jaw sore from being stretched open. It’s so fucking amazing, Cas makes him feel so powerful when Dean can make him come with just his mouth. He’s really understands the appeal.

Cas’ chin slides against Dean’s in his own release and Cas whines when he licks into Dean’s mouth. He breaks their kiss so he can lick Dean’s chin clean with a groan. Dean rolls his hips and squirms under Cas’ mouth because it’s so sexy, Dean thinks he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Fingers brush against Dean’s cheek, Cas scooping up his own release so he can slide down Dean’s body and press his fingers against Dean’s hole when Dean spreads his legs. Cas sucks his cock into his wet mouth and fuck, Dean’s been so on edge, it doesn’t take much before he knows he’s gonna come.

He sinks his hands into Cas’ thick hair, long from vacation and slipping through Dean’s fingers as he tugs at the silky strands. Cas hums while he sucks Dean’s cock, wet noisy slurps of his tongue like he’s enjoying the best meal he’s ever had. He’s pressing his thumb into the dip of Dean’s hip and it makes Dean’s stomach clench, the pressure making the heat in his belly flair.

Dean’s hole is sloppy from Cas’ come and when Cas slips the tip of his finger past Dean’s rim, he cries out, his cock pulsing down Cas’ throat while he swallows around him.

“Cas, Cas, oh fuck—babe—”  Dean’s choking on Cas’ name and he’s boneless when Cas crawls back up his body, taking his time to let his mouth linger in all the dips and curves of Dean’s body. It makes his blood hum and each drag of Cas’ lips against his skin makes Dean feel alive.

Dean sighs against Cas’ mouth when they meet again, their lips swollen and rosy but still, their kissing doesn’t stop, slight brushes of their lips met around their matching smiles.

Cas speaks first. “Thank you, Dean,” he murmurs between kisses.

“For what, babe,” Dean brushes their noses together.

“For falling in love with me, the real me,” Cas’ voice hitches. “You’re the first person I ever—the first person I wanted to be myself with.” He ends his statement with a firmness, like he needs Dean to believe it.

He does.

“I think I’d love every version of you, Cas,” Dean swallows his insecurities, knowing Cas will accept his words. “But I appreciate you putting that trust in me, I swear, I’ll never take you for granted,” he’s truthful, the most he’s ever been. Dean loves Cas, the man who changed his life the day he picked the empty seat next to him at Weavers. He hopes Cas knows how much Dean loves him.

“I’m so glad it’s you, Dean.”

One last confession said into the space between them. Something swells in Dean’s chest and he has to kiss Cas, has to kiss back this tidal wave threatening to pull him under.

Cas’ cheeks are wet and Dean kisses the tears that keep falling. “I’m so glad it’s you, Cas,” Dean returns between kisses. “I’m so lucky it was you.”

They lay in each other’s arms for hours, talking about their trip and different things to do before the summer ends. They sleep wrapped around each other, the fading glow of vacation persistent while they dream of the last week and the newness of their revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	23. Chapter 23

Summer slips away; it always does. Dean and Cas wish it goodbye with an end of summer bonfire at Sunset Beach. All their friends drop in at some point, Sam and Sarah staying for the long haul and even having a few of their own friends drop by. 

Towards the end of the night, Sam pulls Dean aside to tell him that him and Sarah are moving in together. Sarah’s parents have a townhouse off campus and they’ve offered it to the couple for their senior year. 

“Big step, Sammy,” Dean sips his beer but doesn’t take his eyes off his little brother. “You sure you’re ready?” 

“I better be, I already let housing know.” 

Dean scowls. Sam should know better and Dean’s kinda pissed his dumbass brother didn’t talk to him before making that big of a decision. The hell is Sam gonna do if they break up? 

“I know what you’re thinking, Dean,” Sam interrupts his thoughts. “You’re calling me a dumbass in your head.” Sam shakes his head and drains the rest of his beer. 

“If the shoe fits, man,” Dean says, unsympathetic. “Pretty big decision to make without talking to me,” he accuses. 

“I’m going to be twenty-two years old, Dean,” Sam scowls when Dean snorts. “I’m not going to make the same mistakes you did, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he snaps. 

_ Fuckin’ ouch.  _

Dean clenches his jaw. 

This is going off the rails and Dean doesn’t need it. He points his beer at his idiot brother. “You should have talked to me,” Dean states. Simple as that, end of discussion. He finds Cas staring at him from the other side of the bonfire. 

“And that shit about making the same mistakes? Low blow, Sammy,” Dean tells him before he brushes past Sam to join Cas’ side. 

Dean presses a kiss to Cas’ temple. 

“Everything ok?” Cas mutters against his jaw before he brushes his lips there. 

“Sam’s being a dumbass, it’s fine,” Dean reassures him.

Sam and Sarah leave after that and Dean can’t be bothered to worry about him. If Sam wants to be a grown up, Dean’s gonna let him. Nevermind including the guy who raised him in life-changing decisions but whatever. Dean hopes they remember to invite them to the wedding. 

His mood stays sour for a few days and he knows Cas is getting annoyed. Dean told him about their fight the same day and Cas has bugged him nonstop to call Sam but Dean hasn’t and isn’t planning on it. 

A week after the bonfire, Dean wakes up with a wicked sore throat and a high fever and blames the cool ocean air and infamous fog that’s been lingering overnight the last few days. He shoots a text to his boss and Charlie to tell them he won’t be in and another to Cas to cancel the lunch they were having at the Farmer’s Market. He’s pissed and he flops back into bed and scowls at his ceiling. 

Dean drifts back to sleep, waking when a cool washcloth is draped over his forehead. He opens his eyes to Cas’ gentle smile. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas whispers, his voice thick. 

“Cas?” Dean blinks his eyes to clear the sleep from them. “You sick too, honey?” 

Cas sniffs and nods. “Started feeling it yesterday afternoon,” he tells Dean. “I thought I’d be able to sleep it off but your text woke me and I felt the same so,” Cas shrugs. “I forced myself into the shower and called in a soup order at the deli. It was ready when I walked over.”

“Baby, you shouldn’t have walked if you were sick, you should have stayed home.” 

Cas kicks off his shoes and climbs into bed with Dean. “This is better, thanks,” he rests his hot forehead against Dean’s bare chest. 

“You’re burning up,” Dean pushes the hair from Cas’ damp forehead. He shares his compress, pressing the cool side to Cas’ head. 

“I put some medicine next to you,” Cas curls a leg over Dean. “Please take yours, I already had mine.” 

Dean does and they spend their day taking their medication every few hours and binge watching Season eight of Dr. Sexy which Dean argues is  _ the _ season when Dr. Sexy and Nurse Milton really fall in love, even though it doesn’t go canon until Season fourteen. Cas has a decent argument for Season seven but Dean thinks only Dr. Sexy realizes his feelings after Nurse Milton leaves him for an internship across the country. 

Their fevers break that evening, Dean’s early enough that he feels up to going down to the deli for more soup. Cas’ fever breaks not long after and they both have a fitful rest that night. 

Dean calls out of work again the next day and they move to the nest. It’s pouring rain and the living room is chilly. Dean settles Cas into the blankets, tugging thick socks on them both and lighting the gas fire to help warm the room. He brings them cups of coffee and queues up “You’ve Got Mail” for them. 

“Good choice, baby,” Cas hums and Dean grins. Sometimes they have days spent watching movies in the nest and often, it’s all chick flicks but it’s a secret they happily keep to themselves. 

Plus Dean loves Meg Ryan and Cas loves Tom Hanks so this and Sleepless in Seattle are favorites. 

Halfway through the movie, Cas announces his pick—When Harry Met Sally—and Dean downloads it so they can start it right away. 

Tom Hanks is just about to see Meg Ryan on the bridge when there’s a knock at the door. Cas pauses it as Dean climbs out, glad he’s at least wearing underwear with his hoodie to answer the door. He peeps and sees Charlie on the other side, a grin on her face and a bag of takeout in her hands. 

“Open up, I’ve had my flu shot,” she calls through the door. 

Dean yanks it open. “We don’t have the flu,” he retorts. 

Charlie beams and presses a hand to Dean’s forehead. “When did your fever break?” She gives him a hug and presses a kiss to his cheek.

She’s pulling off her jacket and Dean notices rain dripping from her hair. “Last night—did you walk here?” 

“Just from Fable,” she holds up the bags. “Baz and Meg were in rare form. Asked me to tell you both, and I quote—‘Offer is still open.’” She wrinkles her nose when Dean and Cas exchange a look. “It was really suggestive, is this a gross sex thing? If this is a gross sex thing, I don’t want to know.” 

“Then you don’t wanna know,” Dean announces as he takes the bags from her, finding fresh squeezed orange juice and a corned beef scramble filled with peppers and spinach. Charlie brings three plates and a cup of coffee for herself from the kitchen and settles into the couch with a shudder at Dean’s reply. 

She crosses her legs and accepts the plate Dean filled for her. “What are we watching?” She peers at the TV. “Is that ‘You’ve Got Mail? Oh, the end!” she squeals. “This is the best part!” 

Dean shrugs when he climbs into the nest with the plates. Charlie’s the last person who’d judge them for their chick flick movie day. “That was my pick. Cas picked ‘When Harry Met Sally’ so we’re watchin’ that next.” 

“Cool,” Charlie answers before dropping her phone on the cushion next to her and taking another bite. “Is it alright if Gilda stops by?” 

“The more the merrier,” Dean replies, his mouth full of hash. Cas rolls his eyes and pushes Dean’s mouth closed. 

Charlie beams at them. “Let’s watch then, she can miss some.” 

Gilda shows up about thirty minutes into the next movie. Her hair is wet too, the rain now pouring against the windows. Her arms are full of bags. “My goodness, is it nasty outside.” She grins at Dean and Cas in their nest, Cas settled against Dean’s chest. They wave hello. 

“You two are so cute, I brought you some goodies.” 

The movie stays paused while Gilda unpacks her bags, one holding a bunch of rolled blankets which she shakes open to lay over Charlie’s lap. Another bag is full of paper wrapped packages and she unwraps them one by one. 

Gilda brought them all kinds of different jars and vials. One contains some eucalyptus salve for their colds and Cas rubs some on both their chests right away. Dean breathes clearly for the first time in two days. Another package has a small pouch tied shut at the top with twine. 

“That’s a hex bag,” Gilda tells them. “It’s for protection mostly but I cast a small spell to promote healing as well,” she informs them. 

Gilda’s witchy status has taken Dean a little getting used to but he can’t help but be intrigued by Gilda. She’s so sweet and pure, always giving them little potions and blessings when they see her. And she makes Charlie smile which makes her ok in Dean’s book, always. He tucks the little bag of magic under the pillows behind their backs. 

The last vial’s packaging looks familiar and Dean holds it up to Cas with a grin. It matches the little bottle of lube they enjoyed the hell out of a few weeks back. 

“Do you know a guy named Balthazar, by any chance?” Dean asks her, shaking the bottle. 

“Yes, he’s a great client,” she smiles. “Did you enjoy the sample?” 

“You knew that was for us?”

Gilda shakes her head. “Not until recently,” she says. “We had brunch a few weeks back, I asked him about it and Charlie put it together.” She looks at the new bottle in Dean’s hands. “Why do you think I brought you the full size?” 

She won’t accept money when Dean tries to pay, insisting it’s on her as long as they agree to come check her shop out soon. 

They finish the movie, Dean and Cas in their space and Charlie and Gilda under their own blankets, pillows from Dean’s bed adding to their own growing nest. 

“Ok, you girls get two picks for your contributions and for joining our movie marathon,” Dean informs them. Cas gets up to make a new pot of coffee and clean up their breakfast plates. 

“There’s hash left, would anyone like some?” Cas offers but no one accepts, all still full from earlier. Dean follows him into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Cas as he makes a new pot of coffee. 

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” 

“I’m still a bit tired,” Cas answers softly. “But I’m enjoying our movies and the company.” He turns in Dean’s arms and presses a kiss to his cheek. “And you, honeybee.” 

Dean flushes. “I can send them home if you want to sleep,” Dean murmurs into Cas’ neck. Cas’ skin is still warm but Dean’s not sure if it’s the fever trying to come back or from their cuddling. 

“If we’re kicking them out, it’s to see how much of that lube we can use,” Cas utters back in a hushed tone, his breath hot against Dean’s jaw. 

Dean shudders and is about to go help Charlie get her stuff when Cas stops him with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go see what the girls picked out.” 

They’re back in their blankets, this time with Cas’ vape pen which they both take tokes from before settling in. 

“All right, lovely ladies, what are we watching?” Dean’s ready to look up their next movie.

“Gilda wants to watch Ever After,” Charlie announces which is perfect because Dean already has it. 

Cas sleeps against Dean’s chest for the first half of the movie, Dean following, lulled by the falling rain, the warm room, and Cas wrapped in his arms. 

Another knock on the door wakes them both. 

“Who the fuck knows we’re home?” Dean’s about to get up when Charlie stops him, a sheepish look on her face as she gets up to answer the door. 

“It’s Sam—don’t be mad,” she protests when she sees Dean’s face. “Don’t act like you two don’t need to talk,” she hisses at him before she yanks open the door, too fast for him to protest. 

Cas blinks his eyes open, long lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks. “Dean? Did the movie end?”

“Sam and Sarah are here,” he replies quietly as he watches his brother come inside and beeline for his kitchen, Sarah shrugging out of her wet coat with an apologetic smile. 

“Dean, I wasn't sure if—”  

Dean holds his hand up. “It's fine, Sarah, really. Find a spot and make yourself comfortable.”

“We bought stuff for hot toddies,” she gestures after Sam. 

Cas squeezes Dean's hand with a soft, “go,” to urge him after his brother. “And bring us back some pants.” 

_ Damn everyone telling him what to do.  _

He kisses Cas’ temple and rolls out of their nest, zipping his hoodie shut after Cas pulled it open to take his nap. Sarah’s sitting on the edge of the couch like she isn’t sure if they’re staying or not. Dean sighs. 

And now he has to put on fuckin’ pants. 

Sam’s in the kitchen, his back to Dean as he stares at a pot on the stovetop. 

“It’s never gonna boil if you keep giving it the stink eye, little brother,” Dean says, watching Sam’s shoulders stiffen. He chuckles. “What? You thought I’d hide out with Cas and pretend you’re not pissed at me? Can’t really avoid you when you come right in my house.” 

“It was Sarah’s idea,” Sam mumbles. 

Dean sighs and goes to pull down enough mugs for everyone. “Yeah, Cas has been up my ass about calling you too.” 

“Dude, gross.” 

Dean looks over at Sam and he’s wearing the bitch face Dean was counting on and they both crack up, breaking the tension. 

The hot water on the stove boils.

They work side by side silently putting together the drinks. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam starts. “I should have talked to you first. You were right about that. And—”  He takes a deep breath. “I’m really sorry for what I said about—about being like you,” he says in a rush. “I know everything you gave up for me, Dean and if I end up half the man you are—”  

“Dude,” Dean says quietly. He’s not gonna cry in his kitchen over hot toddies. Not today. 

“No, let me finish,” Sam insists. “I’ve looked up to you my whole life, and yeah, you had a few rough years and who wouldn’t, the way dad was—It just wasn’t right of me to throw in your face.” 

_ Well shit, his little brother  _ **_is_ ** _ growing up. _

“Thanks, Sammy.” 

Sam seems surprised. Normally, Dean would deflect because gratitude is not something he is used to feeling like he deserves. He did what he had to do for Sam and he’d do it again, hell, he’ll watch over Sam for the rest of his life, far as Dean’s concerned. 

He’s not sure why, but hearing Sam thank him makes Dean proud that he raised a good man in Sam. 

“Look, Sam, I like Sarah, a lot, and I think she’s awesome—she puts up with you so she must be,” he jokes and Sam’s eyes soften. “And I’m cool with you guys moving in together, really,” Dean assures him because Sam looks skeptical. “I guess I’m just used to you comin’ to me about that kinda stuff.”

“I know, Dean and I—”  

“You knew it was the right decision,” Dean grins at Sam. “Didn’t need me to weigh in at all. I get it, Sammy, I do.” 

“Thanks, Dean, appreciate it.” Sam picks up the tray with their drinks and looks at him. “We good?” 

“Yeah, Sammy, we’re good,” Dean assures him. “Let me know if you need our help moving.” 

“I don’t think we will. The townhouse is furnished and we only have what’s in the dorm. Sarah’s dad scheduled movers,” he ducks his head. “Maybe we could have you and Cas over for dinner, once we’re settled.” 

Dean pockets a bottle of motrin and nods. “Sounds like a plan, little brother.” 

They return to the living room to find it mostly dismantled. The coffee table pushed out of the way because Charlie’s made a smaller version of Dean and Cas’ nest made up of the blankets and pillows Sam brought. 

“Ok, now we have a party,” Dean announces as everyone settles in, Cas under the blankets and wiggling into the shorts Dean brought him. Sam and Sarah exchange a few looks and a kiss and Sarah finally looks relaxed. Cas grins at him and hands him his mug when Dean gets back into the nest to kiss his smiling lips. 

“Hope you have your pick ready, Queenie,” Dean reminds Charlie after him and Cas settle. “Just in case I need to download it.” 

“We’re good, you’ve got it,” she flashes him an ok hand. “Hit play!” 

After he starts the movie, Dean shakes a few pills into his hand and passes them to Cas with a kiss. Cas’ cheeks are still flushed and Dean thinks the fever is trying to make a comeback. He kisses the apples of Cas’ cheeks in concern.

“I’m okay, Dean,” Cas yawns. “If I fall asleep, can we re-watch this movie another day?” 

“Whatever you want, honey,” Dean pushes the hair off Cas’ forehead and brushes his lips there. “Sure you don’t wanna get in bed?”

“No,” Cas murmurs into his neck. “I’m happy right here.” 

Cas pulls the blanket up and again pulls the zipper of Dean’s hoodie open, his hand hot and curling around Dean’s ribs. His stubble tickles Dean’s chest as he burrows in. Dean presses a kiss to the top of Cas’ head. 

Dean’s happy right here, too.

Charlie’s pick is Rogue One. 

“That’s not a chick flick,” Sam is the first to point out. 

Charlie frowns. “Did you see it?” 

“We saw it together!” 

Dean snorts. 

“What are you laughing at, Dean?” He doesn’t need to see Sam’s bitch face to hear it. 

“Charlie brought us food, she can watch whatever she wants,” Dean explains, rubbing the top of Sam’s head with his foot to muss up his hair. “Plus, Cas has been asleep for an hour so I could use some action.”

“I’m awake now,” Cas blinks up at him with sweet eyes. Dean grins and pecks him on the temple. 

“Guys, gross.” 

“How are you not used to them by now?” Charlie asks Sam. 

“I get them in smaller doses.” 

Dean’s mostly listening to Sam and Charlie talk about them like they aren’t here but Cas is distracting him with insistent fingers that are dancing their way up and down Dean’s sides and it tickles and Dean’s trying not to laugh and disrupt the balance but it’s impossible when Cas laughs against his chest. 

“They’re cute,” Sarah and Gilda say in unison before everyone is laughing, Dean burying his face in Cas’ hair. 

_ Asshole family and their interlopers.  _

“I suggest everyone stretch, get some refills,” he gestures to Cas. “Cas has weed, if anyone wants.” 

He queues up the movie and high fives Cas because it’s one of their favorites of the new Star Wars movies. 

Charlie is sitting cross legged on the floor with the silver tray holding some stones and crystals she and Gilda have given them. She’s holding each one up to her cheek while Gilda sits behind her and runs her fingers through Charlie’s red curls. Occasionally, Charlie lifts a stone up to Gilda’s cheek and she nods or shakes her head. 

_ Adorable little witches. _

Turns out, they’re checking each stone to see if Dean’s charged them in the sun and according to them, he’s been slacking. Summer just ended, what’s he supposed to do? 

Sarah is in the kitchen with Sam, an arm around his waist as she looks up at him, a smile on her face. Her hair is twisted on top of her head and Sam has on a beanie and Dean’s pretty sure their plaid pajama pants match and what the hell—where are his and Cas’ matching pajama pants? 

“Dean, why are you pouting?” Cas asks upon his return to the nest. 

“Why don’t  _ we _ have matching pajama pants?” he hisses his question at Cas who raises an eyebrow. 

_ Shit, that’s hot. _

“Would you like to get matching pants, Dean?”

“I mean, it could be cool, you know, to match,” Dean stutters, making Cas shake his head and smile. “We’re supposed to be the cuter couple.” 

“You’re definitely the cuter brother, if that helps,” Cas assures him. It helps—a little. 

They start the movie, Sam still insisting it's not a chick flick but his tune changes when, by the end, they’re all in tears and Sam is admitting defeat while also throwing all of his and Sarah’s balled up tissues at Charlie. 

It’s lunchtime, so Dean orders a shit load of Thai food after the movie ends and puts his phone away before settling back into the blankets. “Sarah, you got next pick.” 

“The Thomas Crown Affair,” she announces without hesitation. 

“McQueen or Brosnan?” Dean asks, receiving looks from the room. “What? It’s a good movie.”

Cas hums in agreement and squeezes Dean’s hand. 

That starts another debate which ends in them settling with the newer version with Pierce Brosnan, mostly in thanks to everyone agreeing that Rene Russo and that black dress of hers being able to tip any scales. 

Twenty minutes in and there’s a pounding on Dean’s door. Dean pauses the movie and counts everyone, yeah, they’re all here so who the hell could be at his door now? Charlie opens it since she’s still the closest and then Max is pushing inside, a scowl on his face and plastic bags in his hands.

“Dean, what the hell dude, I told you to stop having food delivered to our house,” Max barely notices Charlie taking the bags from him. 

Dean cracks up. There was one day when Dean was really hung-over and he remembered this scene from Friends where Joey and Chandler order to the girls apartment and anyway, it’s not important now but Dean tried it and it worked and Max even thought it was funny. 

Not after the fourth time apparently.

“Max, buddy! This was my round about way of inviting you over for lunch and some movies, how about it?” 

Max crosses his arms and looks around the room. Dean’s proud of this lot because he can just imagine what Max sees, three homemade blanket nests with six happy faces smiling at him and Pierce Brosnan looking fine as hell shirtless on the TV. The room is warm, the windows fogged over and the fireplace going, the faint hint of weed in the air and now, Thai food. 

“Come on man, I got enough food for both of my favorite twins,” Dean wiggles his eyebrows. “And if you stay long enough, you’ll both get a pick.”

That must seal the deal because Max turns on his heel but leaves the door open and they can all hear him calling for his sister. Moments later, pajama clad Baines twins, holding blankets and a reusable shopping bag, are adding to the nest on the ground and getting comfortable themselves. Dean asks if they want to restart and Max turns the offer down but wants them to restart the scene. 

Dean does with a smirk. 

The twins settle in and now Dean knows how many people fit laying down in his apartment. He stifles a laugh and tilts his head down to tell Cas it wasn’t how he expected to figure that out and Cas listens, his finger pressed thoughtfully to his lips. 

“Stop thinkin’ about it,” Dean murmurs into the top of Cas’ head. 

Cas tips his head up and kisses Dean’s jaw. “You started it.”

Dean grins and captures Cas’ lips with his. Cas kisses him back with enthusiasm, threading his fingers through the short hair on the side of Dean’s head. His thumb strokes Dean’s temple as they kiss and the tenderness of it makes Dean’s stomach flip. 

He’s happy when they pull apart and Cas tips their foreheads together. They stare for a while, Dean just studying the way the storm outside reflects in Cas’ eyes, making them denim in the low light. Dean wants to wake up to them every day. 

Sam clearing his throat breaks their moment and Dean’s tears his eyes away from Cas to see the movie credits rolling. He looks back at Cas, his eyes smiling because he can always see Dean’s mild annoyance. 

He tips their lips together and straightens up. 

“What’s your pick, Sam?” He growls out. 

“Oh, you guys done?” 

“You’re getting skipped in three… two…—”  

“It’s ‘Me Before You’,” Sam blurts out. 

Dean thinks out of all the groans, Sarah’s is the loudest. 

“That movie’s sad, dude!” What the hell is his brother thinking, he’s gonna bring down the mood. 

“So was Charlie’s,” Sam argues, his lawyer voice coming out. “Mine is no worse and it’s sweet.” 

“He loves this movie, I can’t figure out why,” Sarah’s shaking her head. 

Dean cackles. “Ok, Sam, don’t pout, come on,” Dean nudges him with his foot. “Stop hiding behind your hair, come on. Look, I’m downloading it.” 

He points the remote at the screen and starts the download. More food is heated and dished out, this time with Cas delivering beers and starting a pot of mulled cider on the stove. 

“Anyone need anything?” Cas asks the room but everyone is cool so he comes back to their nest, stretching his arms over his head, making his shirt ride up. Dean sees cherry blossoms and licks his lips. A flash of hip bone makes his mouth water. 

“Babe, before you climb in, can you go to our room and grab the duvet?” He widens his eyes a little and blinks up at Cas. Dean snakes his tongue out to wet his lips and Cas’ eyes flick down to his mouth and grow darker. 

Dean’s point is taken and Cas turns on his heel and brings back their blanket in a flash but he’s swapped out his t-shirt for Dean’s zumba hoodie, zipped mostly up. Dean can see collarbones and arms and he wants to have Cas within touching distance so he helps him rearrange the nest, fixing blankets and pillows so they can lie with no blankets twisted between them. 

Cas snuggles into him, hooking a leg over Dean’s thighs and pulling the blankets up to their chins. Dean wiggles one hand out to point the remote once everyone’s confirmed they’re ready to start. 

Dean’s hand back under the cover finds Cas’ hand waiting and ready to tangle together. Cas digs his thumb into Dean’s palm and rubs circles there while he nuzzles their cheeks together. Hoodies are pulled open and hands roam, the extra cover helping hide their movements but neither are bold enough to go beyond heavy petting, not with the room so full. 

It’s enough to get them both on edge, hard, and just short of rutting against each other. They get away with a lot of kissing, everyone else engrossed in the movie. It’s enough of a distraction that they’re the only one’s not crying by the end. 

They call another break after Sam’s depressing pick ends, and Dean gives the next honors to Alicia; her and Max holding the final picks of the day. 

“Ten Things I Hate About You” is queued up and ready to go but the twins have run over to their apartment to use the bathroom, Charlie and Gilda following, all of them chatting animatedly. Sam and Sarah are cleaning the dishes from lunch and laughing together in front of the sink. 

Cas catches Dean’s eye before he slips into the bathroom and Dean grins and follows, closing his bedroom door. He estimates they probably have five, ten minutes at the most before someone comes looking for them and Dean intends to take advantage. 

Cas does too because when Dean‘s opening the bathroom door, Cas is already coming out, arms wrapping around Dean’s neck, mouths crashing together. Dean slides his hands around Cas’ hips and spins them, pushing Cas down onto the bed before straddling his hips and grinding their cocks together. 

“Fuck—Cas,” Dean pants, a groan escaping his lips when Cas pulls him in by his open hoodie, his hands sliding inside to Dean’s back to press them together. 

“I’m really enjoying today,” Cas sucks at Dean’s earlobe. “But I hope the next two movies are short. I’d like to have you back in this bed, sooner rather than later.” 

“God, same,” Dean groans, guiding their mouths back together. Their tongues find each other, rolling and slipping together as they kiss, licking deep and hot into each other’s mouths. Dean wonders if everyone would be fine without them for a little longer. 

A knock on the door proves him wrong. 

“Guys?”

_ Oh thank fuck, it’s Charlie. _

“Is Cas feeling worse, do we need to call it a day?” 

Loud groans come from the living room and Charlie takes the chance to open the door, brave girl. Her eyes are shut when she sticks her head in.

“Really, my dudes, you groped each other through the entire last movie,” Charlie hisses at them. “Get dressed and get out here before you give your brother a heart attack.” 

They’re both trying not to laugh.

“Stop laughing,” she growls at them before she shuts the door. 

They both crack up. Dean loves the way Cas’ face splits into a wide grin, the way his eyes glitter and shine, even in the low light of the room. He’s gorgeous.

Cas smiles up at him and Dean honestly doesn’t give a damn and takes another minute to kiss him, this time slow and with purpose, so Cas knows Dean wouldn’t trade moments like this with him for anything else in the world. 

“I love you,” Dean whispers into the small space between them. 

“Move in with me,” Cas blurts out and then bites his lip, his eyes wide like he startled himself too. Dean can only imagine his own face. “Or—I’ll move in here. Or we can get a place—” He’s blushing and  _ not  _ looking at Dean anymore and it’s so damn cute. “I think we should live together—I want us to,” he stutters. “I want you to come home to me,” Cas voice is soft and Dean’s heart swells. 

_ He’s gonna get to have this every day. _

“I want to come home to you, too, Cas,” Dean tells him and means every word. “Every single day I come home to an empty house, it crosses my mind.” Cas’ eyes find his again and they’re smiling before his mouth catches up. “I don’t care where we live, long as we’re together.” 

Cas kisses him again, this time with a gummy smile and Dean laughs and kisses him back. 

_ They’re gonna live together. Every night and morning and days off and holidays and—oh shit—the holidays.  _

“Can we keep this bed?” Cas snuggles into the memory foam. 

Dean’s so excited, he’ll let Cas have whatever he wants. 

“Will you teach me to cook so I can make you dinner?” 

Dean imagines Cas in an apron and wonders why they haven’t done this yet. He climbs off the bed, still aware of their living room full of people.  _ Their _ living room. Maybe it will be. 

He pulls Cas up and wraps him in his arms. “Whatever you want. The bed, the cooking, anything babe,” he breathes against Cas’ jaw. 

“Is Sam gonna be ok with this?” 

“Is Gabe?”

They grin at each other because the answer to these questions is always, “I’ll handle him,” from both of them. 

Cas and Gabe talked a week after they got back from Tahoe. Two nights later, the three of them were having Brazilian BBQ together, dinner quickly escalating into a contest of sorts, to see who could eat the most. What Gabe didn’t know was that Dean was prepared. He hadn’t eaten all day and he let Cas finally talk him into yoga pants. 

The extra stretch came in handy because Dean was able to keep up with Gabe for most of the night until he conceded for the good of his relationship. He let Gabe gloat because it made Cas rolls his eyes in a cute way and then Dean challenged him to a rematch and it was like a switch flipped; Gabe inviting them out for a nightcap and keeping Dean up past his bedtime while they got to know each other. 

Needing an extra shot or two the next morning was worth all of Cas’ smiles as he watched Dean and Gabriel finally get along, in their way. 

The movie is already started when they come out and a stack of pizzas are on the kitchen table too. 

“Cas, your pineapple is on the bottom,” Charlie calls out. 

“Thank you, Charlie,” Cas replies as he puts a piece of pineapple on each of their plates. Dean groans. This is what he has to live with? Pineapple pizza? 

Watching Cas make his way over people and back to their nest tells Dean yes, he’ll eat pineapple pizza forever if he gets to see that cute butt every day. 

The two of them can’t stop grinning at each other, earning weird looks from Sam and even Charlie. Dean will tell them their good news later. 

The other movies do seem to finish quick and soon, they’re wishing all their friends goodbye with promises to his brother and his best friend for phone calls and coffee tomorrow. 

The fireplace is low and the living room looks bare after being filled with blankets and bodies all day. Dean doesn’t think he’d miss this space all that much, especially if the alternative is wherever Cas wants to be. 

That thought is solidified when familiar hands wrap around his waist, Cas cuddling up to his back. Cas takes Dean to bed and Dean’s never slept better knowing he gets to be the one Cas loves and now, the one who gets to wake up next to Cas every day. 

_ Pretty damn lucky, Winchester. _

Their matching pajama pants are delivered by Amazon the next day.


	24. Chapter 24

One thing Dean learns right away, living with Cas, is that the guy lives for September. It’s Back to School season so Cas can resupply, buying out paints and charcoal, colored pencils and markers. He drags Dean shopping with him.

“Dude, you don’t need three hundred packs of markers, Cas—what the fuck?” 

But Cas ignores Dean and keeps shopping, filling cart after cart and surprising the hell out of Dean when he stops by the Boys and Girls Club to drop all the supplies off. 

Cas grins at him when they climb back in the car and Dean has to have him. He slides over leather to reach for Cas, pulling their mouths together in a scorching kiss. 

“How’d you get so good Cas?” Dean sucks at Cas’ lips. “Too good for me,” he pants. 

Cas shakes his head and captures Dean’s top lip between his teeth. “Don’t talk like that, please. You deserve the very best, Dean,” Cas says against his cheek. 

Dean pushes his hand through Cas’ hair and cups the back of his head. “That’s you, you’re the best,” he murmurs. 

Turns out, Cas saves money all year to make these donations to the local clubs that support kids, believing all of them should have access to art and school supplies. He told Dean it was because The Boys and Girls Club helped Gabriel when he needed it, so Cas always gave back to them in thanks. 

Dean wants to kiss more of the story out of him but settles on making another round when the stores get restocked, this time Dean footing the bill. 

Cas makes Dean feel like a better man when he gets involved in these kinds of things and Dean’s already talked to Charlie about a toy drive for Christmas at the station. Cas is painting posters for the event. 

It was easy to decide they’d move into Cas’ place together. First of all, Dean rents and Cas owns. Second, no way in hell they’d ever find space as amazing as Cas’ for the cost of their mortgage. Dean didn’t have much attachment further than the nostalgia of his place and lucky for him, he wouldn’t have to say goodbye just yet.

When he gave Charlie the news, she squealed over the phone and then promptly showed up with a bottle of tequila for them and a request that Dean not break his lease just yet. Turns out she was conspiring with Alicia and found out their landlord allows sublets; it’s how the twins stay there since their mom is the renter. Charlie’s lease is up and she’s always loved Dean’s place and it must be the universe helping them out because the move is seamless. 

Dean even left the window box in place, much to Charlie’s delight. 

The only real problem they faced when moving was the fact that Cas’ garage held their bikes and no matter how much they tried, could not fit the Impala too. Dean found himself googling rented parking spots in the city and weeping at the price and the fact that his Baby would be far from home waiting to be driven. And there was no way in hell he was parking her on the street. The thought alone gave him a panic attack Cas had to talk him down from. 

He desperately offered Charlie a hundred bucks off her rent if she let him keep the garage for the Impala and he was relieved when she agreed, considering she didn’t even own a car and was just planning on using the space for storage. 

Dean installed racks in the ceiling for her boxes the following weekend. 

Their first night together in “their” place—Dean with a shiny new Batman key to their space upstairs—Cas gives Dean a gift box wrapped in Batman paper and once opened, keeping up with the theme, a brand new black helmet made to look like Batman’s mask. It has mother fuckin’ bat ears on top and Dean insisted they go for a ride. 

Cas posts a picture to Instagram (which he never uses) of them in their helmets on his bridge at night with the caption, “Boyfriend gets a helmet when he moves in.” It gets over three thousand likes and Cas is astounded at the following he’s seemed to accumulate without even noticing. 

Dean thinks it’s cute. 

They’re in bed that night when Cas goes through his notifications. Dean’s wrapped around him, naked and sated and lazy thanks to a generously packed bowl and some really great sex. 

Dean came twice that night. Cas spoils him. 

“Why do they keep calling us ‘dads’,” Cas asks as he peers at his phone behind his adorable glasses. 

His next question is to ask Dean why he won’t stop laughing. 

It’s fucking good, living with Cas. Great, even. Dean’s almost mad about it, completely miffed by how easy it’s been. Not to say they don’t fight—bicker, Cas would correct him—but it’s almost always over something stupid they end up settling over bowls of Ramen. Or angry sex. That’s the most fun. 

Living together becomes its most handy when Dean plans Cas’ birthday. 

That’s another reason Cas loves September, calls it his birthday month and Dean’s embraced it, bringing home coffee for Cas before work or slipping little notes and new brushes under his pillow. A small surprise every day to celebrate.

Dean’s new favorite way to be thanked is a blow job from Cas. 

He hardly ever has time to talk to Gabriel in private and Gabriel has to send Cas to their publisher on Dean’s day off so they can finalize their big plan. 

Well, Dean’s plan. Dean thought it would be wise to get Gabe’s opinion and Gabe was so excited, he insisted on helping. 

That’s how they got the movie theater. Gabriel seems to have a penchant for charming their owners. 

Lucky for them, Cas’ birthday falls on a Saturday this year. 

Cas thinks they’re going to spend the day meeting up with friends in the city and in Berkeley, where Cas has some galleries he’d like to visit, followed by dinner with Dean. They’re going to do all of that, but what Cas doesn’t know is they’re doing all of it on Sunday. 

Dean loves waking up in this new space. The windows face east so sunrise consumes their room, infusing it with soft, warm light. Cas looks breathtaking in it. 

Dean stares at him now, his eyes shut, his breath soft, his cheek pressed to the pillow, his hand tucked under it. Cas’ other hand is curled around Dean’s naked back, their bodies pressed together as they slept. Dean watches him, indulging in the peace of the morning and the peace that comes knowing Cas is sleeping soundly. 

When Dean wakes again, the light is only just brighter, which means it’s still early. He checks his watch and sees they have another hour before the alarm. Cas shifts in his sleep, his knee rubbing against Dean’s thigh and he decides it's time to start Cas’ birthday. 

He loves that they sleep naked. It’s helpful when Dean slips under their sheets to plant soft kisses to Cas’ collarbones, taking time to worship them with fluttering lips and small bites. 

Cas stirs but doesn’t wake.

Dean wiggles lower, his lips skimming over Cas’ chest, Cas’ nipples pebbling against swipes of Dean’s tongue. 

Cas’ hips shift. 

Dean grins and moves his mouth to Cas’ belly button, the little dip one of Dean’s favorite places on Cas’ body. He loves the way Cas squirms when he dips his tongue inside. 

Dean gets a breathy sigh from Cas when he does it. 

He takes his time with Cas’ hips. They’re fuckin’ perfect, the long stretch of Cas’ lean body creating an expanse of skin Dean thinks about whenever his mind wanders. The beautifully sketched cherry blossoms that bloom against Cas’ golden skin make Dean’s mouth water and he takes his time kissing and tracing each one with his fingertips. 

He finds Cas’ cock hard and leaking against his belly and Dean smirks, knowing he caused this with his mouth. 

Dean noses at the crease of Cas’ thigh, breathing in the musky citrus scent that settles into Cas’ skin there, making Dean feel drunk. He can’t wait any longer and drags his mouth along the length of Cas’ hard cock, his tongue leaving a slick trail in its wake. Dean flattens his tongue and slides it over Cas’ thick head before going back to tease the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. 

Cas groans and fingers thread into Dean’s hair when he sinks his mouth over Cas’ head, sucking around it before sucking Cas’ length into his mouth. 

“Fuck—please tell me this isn’t a dream?”

Dean pulls off Cas’ cock to grin up at his boyfriend. “Not a dream.” He dips his tongue into Cas’ slit. 

Cas whines. “Did I die in my sleep? This is my heaven, isn’t it?” 

Dean’s laugh rumbles in his throat and Cas moans. He pulls his mouth wetly off Cas’ dick, sucking at the tip before answering. “Not dead.” He licks the entire length, from base to tip. “Just your birthday.” 

Dean dives back in, gripping Cas’ cock and sliding his hand up and down to match the slide of his mouth. Cas is hard and his cock twitches. Dean’s spit drips down Cas’ length and helps the slide of his hand as he strokes and sucks Cas off at the same time. 

Cas rolls his hips to match Dean’s rhythm and a chorus of moans and Dean’s name on repeat has Dean hard and grinding his own hips against the sheets, the friction just short of enough to get off. Dean needs Cas for that. 

Dean doesn’t break his stride when his other hand comes up to play with Cas’ balls, rolling them in his hand and rubbing his fingers in the soft creases of Cas’ body. Cas’ groans take on a higher octave as Dean plays. 

He slips his fingers further back, finding Cas’ hole wet and spit slick and Cas cries out when Dean slides a finger past the circle of muscle, only rubbing around it. Cas told him a while back he prefers to top, citing some bad experiences as a bottom. Dean could write a book titled The Joy of Bottoming but knows it’s just not for some guys. 

Cas is comfortable with what they do and he’s open to Dean’s exploration, consent given after they had the always enjoyable top or bottom talk. Dean ordered pizza and afterwards, they watched Star Trek. 

Dean sucks Cas back into his mouth, this time relaxing his throat to take more of Cas’ length, the weight of his cock heavy on Dean’s tongue. Cas’ breath hitches and he jerks his head up to watch Dean, finding Dean’s eyes already on his face. Blue eyes widen and Cas tightens his grip in Dean’s hair, Dean fluttering his eyes at Cas as he swallows around him. Dean’s fingers stroke over Cas’ wet hole and he lets them drag, creating a slight tug on Cas’ rim and Cas eyes blow wide open and his cock pulses in Dean’s mouth, hot come hitting the back of Dean’s throat. He almost gags but exhales through his nose, hands coming up to Cas’ cock to stroke him through his orgasm so Dean can suckle the head and make sure he doesn’t let a drop of Cas’ come escape. 

Cas’ head hits his pillow with a groan and he’s hauling Dean up by his arm to bring their lips together in a hot kiss. Cas licks into Dean’s mouth, searching for a taste of himself. He whines when he finds it, rolling his tongue against Dean’s in a searing slide. Cas reaches between them and a few strokes of his hand has Dean coming, Cas’ name on his lips as he does.

Cas lays back with his hands behind his head and a lazy, sated grin on his face as Dean cleans him with a warm washcloth. 

“Gonna milk this birthday thing extra hard today, huh?” Dean smirks and drops a kiss to Cas’ shoulder.

“As is my right,” Cas answers, his voice as relaxed as he looks. 

_ Can’t argue with the birthday boy. _

Dean’s glad because he wants Cas to indulge today. 

They drink a cup of coffee in bed and Dean gets them refills while Cas starts their shower. The alarm went off while they were drinking so they’re doing great on time. The Roxie is only a few blocks down. They wash each other’s hair in the shower and Cas wins today’s mohawk contest, his hair longer than Dean’s. He’s giving his acceptance speech, something about good vitamins and scalp massage and Dean has to kiss him to shut him up. 

Dean keeps insisting Cas dress comfortable and tries to set an example with a pair of olive joggers and a white henley over a short sleeve. Cas follows his lead but his joggers are black and he’s wearing two henleys, one a darker shade of the blue than the other. Two hoodies are in his hand. 

They pull them on when they step outside, the fall San Francisco air crisp and thin. Occasional gusts of wind have them pulling the collar of their hoodies to protect their necks and block the sharp air. 

“I’m glad it’s a short walk,” Cas huffs before he takes Dean’s hand and stuffs them both in the pocket of his jacket. 

_ Shorter than you think.  _

Cas thinks they’re meeting Charlie and Gilda for breakfast at Fable. What he doesn’t know is that he won’t be having it  _ there, _ exactly. 

Dean sees it before Cas does but he knows the moment it happens. 

Cas stops in his tracks and sucks in a sharp breath, his hand tightening in Dean’s. Dean squeezes back and waits. 

“Dean, what  _ is _ this?” Cas sounds close to tears. 

“It’s for you, Cas,” Dean says softly. “Happy birthday.”

They stand in front of The Roxie, the marquee lit bright in the gray sky of September the eighteenth. Pink, purple, and blue lights illuminate the morning gloom but most importantly, the marquee reads, “Happy Birthday, Cas!” 

Dean pulls a speechless Cas towards him, his hands going around Cas’ waist. He doesn’t hold on long because Cas is crying and Dean lets go to sweep the tears away with his thumbs. Dean kisses Cas as sweet as he can before pulling them inside the warm theater. 

Cas’, “Holy fuck!” at the sight of all their family and friends in the lobby of the theater is worth every second of planning and every dollar spent. Dean takes in the sight of the well worn lobby, now transformed for Cas’ birthday. 

While him and Cas had a quiet night in, Sam, Sarah, and Charlie had been hard at work setting everything up. The concessions counter now serves as the buffet, holding a fully catered breakfast from Fable, Balthazar hovering over it to ensure perfection. At the end, one owner mans the popcorn machine. Dean gives Chuck a small wave of appreciation when their eyes meet. There’s a makeshift bar set up across the way, an array of drinks including fresh coffee, juice, and an impressive mimosa bar courtesy of Balthazar as well. 

Charlie stands in the middle of the room, a huge grin on her face. Behind her is a table full of brightly wrapped presents and Dean’s taken aback by the generosity of their friends. 

Cas’ hand is clenching Dean’s and he keeps tugging at it as he notices more people there. Dean invited everyone and everyone showed; Sam and Sarah, Charlie and Gilda of course, Max and Alicia were there talking to Meg and smiling next them all was Gabriel. 

“Dean, you did all this?” Cas turns to him, happiness and wonder etched across his face. 

“I can’t take all the credit, Gabriel helped.” 

“That’s Gabe to you, Dean-o,” Gabe says from behind him. Dean rolls his eyes and smirks at Cas before he moves out of the brothers way so they can hug it out. Dean leaves them to check on everything, reassured by Charlie that they're on schedule and running smoothly. Their first movie starts in an hour so everyone can enjoy breakfast first. 

Charlie clears her throat and calls for the attention of the room, “Listen up, bitches!” 

Everyone quiets. Cas comes and slips an arm around Dean’s waist. 

“Welcome guys, and thanks so much for being here to celebrate Cas’ birthday!” 

A few whistles and whoops fill the air as Cas laughs and takes a few slaps on the back from everyone around them. 

“I hope you came ready to watch movies and eat and spend the day with the birthday boy. First up is breakfast so everyone help yourselves,” Charlie gestures towards the food. “Thanks to Balthazar and Meg for the awesome spread. We have tables set up over there and our first movie will start promptly at nine. I suggest everyone stake out a spot in the theater too.” She jerks a thumb over her shoulder to another table that holds gift bags and a stack of blankets. “There are extra blankets and everyone make sure and grab a gift bag.” 

They’re full of fun stuff for a day of movie watching in their own theater including floss for the popcorn, an eye mask and earplugs if anyone needs a nap, tiny bottles of assorted alcohol, and a one hitter vape pen. Dean loves grown up parties.

The crowd heads towards the food but Cas holds Dean back from joining them by wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and kissing him full on the lips. Cas licks into Dean’s mouth and bunches his fingers in the short hair on the back of Dean’s head. Dean leans into the kiss, happy to feel the joy radiating off Cas through each hot slide of their lips. 

“I love you,” Cas whispers when he finally pulls them apart. He’d ignored the catcalls from their guests and kissed Dean until they were both breathless. “I love you so much, I can’t believe you remembered.” 

“How do you know Gabe didn’t—”  

“I know it was you, Dean,” Cas kisses him again, open mouthed. “Gabe hasn’t—we’ve both been complicit in pretending we didn’t miss this.” He looks at Dean so intensely, a piece of Dean’s soul shifts. Cas’ voice goes quiet. “You gave this back to us, thank you.” 

“Anything to see that smile of yours, Cas,” Dean tips their foreheads together. “Happy Birthday, honey.” 

“This is the best present anyone could ever give me,” Cas is so sincere it makes Dean’s heart beat fast. His smile makes his cheeks hurt. 

“Ready to eat?”

Breakfast is Cas’ favorite thing to order when they eat at Fable—Caramelized peach French toast and two already made plates are handed to them so the birthday boy doesn’t have to wait in line. Drinks are waiting for them at their seats and the company and the food are excellent. Dean thanks Baz and Meg for the amazing food and for coming since the two of them are invited guests. 

Dean ordered the catering after he invited them—he’s not an asshole—and was shocked when they both refused his money. Meg insisted and then made Dean stay for a drink and some tapas before she sent him home with bags full of food for her, as she put it, “unicorn.” They’d had a long talk over the appetizers, Meg telling Dean what it was like then, what that mother fucker was like, what Cas was like. If the way Meg talked about Cas was any sign that spark Dean loves about him has always been there. Even that bastard Michael couldn’t tear it out. 

They’d toasted to his demise if he ever tried to return to their city and after that, they’d kind of bonded. It made Cas happy to see them getting closer, anyway. 

Charlie’s up in front of the group again.

“All right, we’ve got about ten minutes to showtime. Don’t worry about the plates, I’ll be handing out your tickets and you can get refills of food and drinks and take your seats!” She reaches behind her and pulls out a retro letter board, the white letters spelling out the day’s schedule against black felt: 

**9:00** **Ferris Bueller’s Day Off**

**12:00** **Back to the Future**

**3:30** **Star Wars: A New Hope**

Cas’ eyes are sparkling after he reads the selection of movies Dean agonized over for weeks, polling nearly everyone in the room and finally deciding on these three, even after a last minute change around midnight last night. 

“These movies okay, babe?” Dean worries his lower lip between his teeth. “We can change them if—” 

“Dean, they’re perfect, everything is perfect.” He kisses Dean, just a brush of their lips. “You’re perfect.”

_ Dean is so getting laid tonight.  _

He grins and takes Cas’ hand. “Let’s go get into our seats.” 

The theater is huge and six months ago, the Shirley’s renovated to keep up with the evolving times by replacing all the seats with luxury recliners. Dean and Cas visit at least once a week for whatever old movies playing, just to enjoy the atmosphere and to cuddle in the dark. 

Today, there are two seats middle center saved just for them. Piles of blankets are there next to a tray set up to hold a second helping of breakfast, hot coffee, mimosas, and a bag of popcorn, too. Dean settles in and pulls Cas down with him, passing him a goodie bag. Cas grins when he pulls out the tiny vape pen and a certificate to Gilda’s shop; an addition Dean wasn’t aware of until now. Gilda’s not inside the theater yet so Dean can’t thank her. He’ll have to remember for later. 

Dean’s next to the food and he serves Cas more French toast as the lights dim and the movie starts. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas whispers, his voice full of fondness.

Dean kisses him slow. “You’re welcome, Cas.” 

They stay on schedule all day, stopping between movies for lunch—paninis made by Baz for everyone.  _ Back to the Future _ serves to be an easily quotable movie and the group of them enjoy yelling out lines, Sam and Cas discussing the possibility of time travel with Charlie, Gabe, and Max. Everyone is clustered close enough to talk but far enough away that no one feels on top of each other. 

Unless you’re like Dean and you  _ want _ your boyfriend in your lap, which is where he dragged Cas ten minutes into the movie. Dean spent the first half of the movie nibbling at Cas’ collarbones and neck much to Cas’ delight. 

Everyone is buzzed from a nice cross-fade—thanks to their hosts—when the movie ends and they break before their last movie starts. 

Charlie disappears only to come back singing Happy Birthday at the top of her lungs, which easily prompts everyone else to join. A delightful shade of dusky rose paints Cas’ cheeks and Dean wants to kiss him. 

She’s holding a tray of cupcakes Dean ordered from the same bakery Cas gets their pie. Honey cupcakes with honey cream cheese frosting, a perfect honeybee made of icing on top of each fills the tray and Cas’ eyes light up when he sees them.

Max has been taking pictures all day and he takes a few of the cupcakes too and asks for the name of the bakery. Dean hopes he got a picture of Cas’ blush.

Cas loves them and he smears icing on Dean’s lips just so he can kiss them clean as a thank you. He’s too busy doing that to notice Baz appear with a steaming pie in his hands which he sets down in front of the happy couple. 

“I know you insisted I didn’t need to do desert but I couldn’t help myself.” He gestures towards the pie, the crust golden and flakey over a mound of delicious smelling filling. “Honey Strawberry Peach Pie. Happy birthday, Cassie.” 

Dean’s mouth waters.

“Baz, you’ve done entirely too much. Thank you, my friend,” Cas squeezes his hand. Dean looks for Meg to thank her as well and finds her at the bar, talking to Max with a smile on her face. 

“Meg, darling, bring that tall drink over here will you?” Baz calls to her. She leads Max over to them, situating him between her and Baz. Max snaps a picture of the pie and Baz beams at him. Dean can hear Baz asking Max about his photos when the three of them wander away. 

Cas leans in to kiss Dean, now that they’re alone, however briefly. “Today has been incredible, Dean,” Cas mumbles against Dean’s lips in that slow, heady way of his. He exhales hotly against Dean’s ear and slides their cheeks together, their stubble creating a delicious rub that makes Dean’s lower back tingle. Dean rubs his hands over his thighs. 

“Better watch it, Cas, we won’t make it through the next movie you keep breathin’ on me,” Dean utters, his hands twitching with want to drag Cas home right this second. 

Cas leans away to consider this. “I suppose you’re lucky I haven’t seen  _ New Hope _ on the big screen in far too long,” he muses.

**_Dean’s_ ** _ lucky?  _

He smirks because Dean knows what he has planned for the birthday boy later. “Whatever you say, babe.” 

_ A New Hope _ is fucking awesome in the theater. Dean’s never seen it on such a large screen and as a fan, it’s completely overwhelming to see the movie in such a new way. Cas is grinning from ear to ear as they exit the theater hand in hand after everyone else has filed out. He stops Dean at the edge of the darkness. 

“How can I ever repay you?” Cas asks quietly into the space between them. “All of this? It’s so much, more than I deserve, surely.” 

Dean places a chaste kiss to Cas’ soft lips. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I set this all up just for me,” Dean confesses. “What? Today some kind of special day?” He looks at Cas with a tilt to his head and a twist of his lips. 

Cas pinches Dean’s hip before he slides his hand to cup Dean’s ass. The hard line of Cas’ body presses against Dean, making his breath quicken. 

“You’re a smart ass.”

“Yeah, but I’m your smart ass.” 

“That’s for damn sure,” Cas finally shuts up and kisses Dean like he’s been waiting to be kissed, all firm lips and quick swipes of his tongue, every press full of gratitude. 

Dean wants to do this every year.

Cas spends some time thanking everyone before they leave and Dean finds Gilda and Charlie to thank them for everything. 

“Dude, it’s our pleasure. Look at him,” Charlie smiles happily at Cas laughing with Gabe and Sam. “That smile shines brighter than the sun.” 

“Yeah,” Dean murmurs in agreement. His face softens when Cas looks up to meet his eyes. 

Charlie chuckles at him, kisses his cheek and pats him on the head before they’re out the door, leaving behind Sam, Sarah, and Gabe. They’re all going to dinner together down by Charlie’s  _ new _ place, a little hole in the wall place called Eureka. Dean blames the entire Gold Rush for these names. They make Cas’ favorite burger in the Castro, after Dean’s, and Cas is excited when Gabe walks them there. 

A round of burgers and one too many of their signature H.O.M.O Cocktails and everyone is tipsy and happy when they stumble back out to the sidewalk. 

“You guys need us to walk you home?” Sam jokes, hitching Sarah further up his back. Dean’s not sure how she got on it but okay. What straight people do is their business. Sam and Sarah are staying with Charlie tonight and it’s close enough that Dean can see a light burning in his old bedroom. 

“I think we’re good,” Dean pulls Sam down so he can kiss Sarah’s cheek in goodbye. 

“Enjoy your birthday boy,” Sarah giggles and wiggles her eyebrows. 

“Oh, I will,” Dean assures her and pulls the birthday boy to him, Cas immediately threading a hand into Dean’s hair and kissing Dean’s cheek. 

“Say goodnight to S-squared,” Dean tilts his chin towards the couple. 

“Be careful, you two,” Cas gets his footing and moves over to the couple. “Thank you both, for everything.” He boops Sarah on the nose and then Sam. “I’m going to go have some birthday sex now.” 

Dean throws his head back with laughter at the matching horrified looks on Sam and Gabe’s faces. Sarah’s laugh rings out clear as a bell and Cas smiles at her. 

_ Adorable drunk birthday boyfriend.  _

Dean smirks. He’s a little tipsy too. Time to get them home. He waves his brother off and pulls Cas closer to his side. 

“Okay kids, I’m off,” Gabriel says as a Lyft pulls up to the curb. “Make all the disgusting sex noises you want tonight. Happy birthday, little bro.” He ruffles Cas’ hair and his face splits into a wide grin when Cas throws his arms around his neck. 

“Thanks Gabey,” he whispers. Gabe’s face goes soft and Dean drops his eyes to give them their privacy. “Best birthday ever.” 

“Best birthday ever, kiddo.” 

Dean doesn’t have to look at Gabriel to know he’s trying not to cry. Cas reaches for Dean when the car door shuts and Gabe’s ride drives away. He tucks himself under Dean’s arm and presses a kiss to the side of Dean’s jaw. 

“Let’s go home, birthday boy.” 

Cas sighs. “Did Gabe tell you  _ New Hope _ was the last movie we watched together? He was gone by the new year.” They start to walk. Dean holds his breath. He knows nothing of how Gabe got here, only that after he left, things got harder for Cas almost immediately. Dean’s torn between wanting the story and wanting to keep a talk like that away from a day as good as today. 

Cas decides for them when they arrive home. He wraps his hand around Dean’s wrist before Dean puts his key in the door. 

“Dean,” Cas cups his cheek. “I can’t tell you how much today has meant to me.” Cas’ eyes are soft and Dean nuzzles into his palm, warm from holding Dean’s hand the whole way home. “You are, without a doubt, the best partner and best  _ friend _ I’ve ever had.” Dean presses his eyes shut, Cas’ words getting stuck in his throat. Hearing Cas vocalize the way Dean feels every day and returning that sentiment to him means everything. 

He pulls Dean closer to him. “I love you,” Cas says in a breathy whisper and the words wrap around Dean’s heart and he knows he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure Cas knows he feels the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	25. Chapter 25

“I love you too, babe.” 

The night is cold, the dense fog from the bay already rolling in to linger and coat their city in a swirling mist and damp air. Dean stares at Cas and grins when Cas’ face melts into a smile so warm, Dean can’t feel any of the cool air anymore. Cas is still smiling when he slides his hand to the back of Dean’s head to pull him in for a kiss. The tip of Cas’ nose brushes Dean’s cheek and it's like ice. Much to Cas’ disdain, Dean pulls them apart and soothes Cas’ wrinkled forehead with a kiss. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside so we can have some of that birthday sex you keep tellin’ everyone about.” 

Cas’ eyes light up and his pout disappears. He slips his hands under Dean’s shirt while Dean unlocks the door and they’re fucking freezing. Dean yelps and moves quicker while Cas huffs a laugh and rubs his hands over Dean’s stomach to warm them. Thankfully, it’s warm inside and Cas makes it his job to remove their hoodies, making sure their shirts go with them. He’s still molded to Dean’s back when they make it to their stairs, the second level dark with only a hint that anyone was there; the kitchen table covered in Cas’ gifts, dropped off by Charlie and Gilda. 

Dean groans when Cas’ sinful mouth drags across his shoulders, Cas getting creative with his teeth. He unlocks the door to the third floor and stuffs his keys in his pocket before turning and picking Cas up to throw him over his shoulder. Cas grunts and giggles when Dean smacks his ass, returning the favor by doing the same. 

“Don’t drop me, Officer,” Cas hums before he’s sliding his hands over Dean’s ass and he still mouths at Dean’s back, despite the fact that he’s upside down and being carried up stairs. 

“Bendy mother fucker,” Dean murmurs when he gets them inside, Cas still laughing into Dean’s back, his breath hot and spreading over Dean’s skin. Dean yanks Cas’s shoes off and drops them as he makes his way to their bed. He steps out of his own as he goes. 

When Dean moved, he brought his memory foam but left the frame, the two of them deciding to keep Cas’ set up the same, low to the ground and tucked into the corner. Dean turned it into a nest within a week. 

He drops Cas there now with a wicked grin. Cas scrambles up to rest on his elbows to watch Dean watch him, both of them gazing up and down each other’s bodies. Cas’ chest is flushed to match his cheeks and his hair is wild and dark. Dean’s gaze travels up to find Cas’ eyes the same. 

Dean has to have him. Cas is all he needs.

Cas reaches for him in the same moment Dean rushes him, their mouths crashing together. Dean presses their hips together in a dirty grind, a gasp bursting from Cas’ mouth when their cocks rub together. Dean shudders when Cas’ fingernails dig into his shoulder blades and he arches his back into it. His blood is boiling under his skin and he bites into Cas’ bottom lip, dragging another filthy growl from Cas’ throat. 

Dean pushes at the clothes separating them and Cas pants against his neck, his mouth sucking at Dean’s throat. “Cas, pants,” Dean grumbles, prompting Cas to help him remove their stupid pants.  

“Dean,” Cas whines, his voice rough with lust. He bites at the soft underside of Dean’s chin, his teeth teasing a line up to Dean’s lips. He nibbles and sucks at Dean’s bottom lip and Dean presses him into the mattress with a bruising kiss. 

Tiny moans accompany all of Cas’ kisses and Dean’s lost in them until Cas pulls Dean by the hair to separate them, panting into his mouth. “Dean, baby, oh fuck your mouth,” Cas groans as Dean sucks at the soft spot behind Cas’ ear. “I have—I have a birthday request,” he growls out, desperate sounds fighting through his words as Dean licks and sucks at the cut of his jaw. Cas’ stubble tickles his tongue in a satisfying way. 

“Whatever you want, babe,” Dean breathes into his ear, sucking the tip of Cas’ earlobe into his mouth before scraping his teeth over it. “Tell me what you want, birthday boy,” he loads the overused moniker with innuendo and his point is taken, judging by the shaky breath Cas takes before he speaks again. 

“I want—I want you to fuck me,” his request is simple, but it still grinds everything to a halt, Dean stopping his ministrations under the weight of Cas’ request. He leans up and finds uncertainty and need warring across Cas’ features. Dean kisses him before he cups Cas’ face in his hands. His thumbs stroke Cas’ cheeks, the need to calm and reassure leaking from his fingertips. 

“You know you don’t have to—right?” Dean asks, needing Cas to say it's what  _ he  _ wants and not what he thinks  _ Dean _ wants. Every time Dean goes down on Cas, he explores, not wanting to push but wanting Cas to experience the absolute fucking ecstasy that comes with giving that part of yourself to the person you love. Call him a sap but Dean’s never trusted anyone on the same level he trusts Cas and now, Cas is putting that level of trust into Dean. 

“I never felt that way,” Cas says, serious. He wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and a leg around Dean’s waist to pull them together. “I know you’ll take care of me,” he turns his head to kiss Dean’s palm and Dean thinks his heart is gonna stop. “I know you’ll make it good.” 

A wave of arousal crashes in Dean’s belly and he groans. “Yeah, Cas, I’ve got you. I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” 

Cas’ eyes darken and he tips his chin up to whisper in Dean’s ear, “Then what are you waiting for, Officer?” 

It’s like a switch flips in Dean’s gut and he pushes himself up to his knees, hands dragging down Cas’ velvet skin. Cas laughs and stretches his hands over his head, his long, tight, painted body on display, just for Dean. He arches his back and spreads his legs wider and all Dean can see is golden skin and dusky nipples, a cock he wants to taste, and art he wants to worship. 

Dean wants to wreck Cas, just for the privilege of putting him back together again. 

Strong legs wrap around his back and Dean moves, captivated by the man under him. Cas lifts his body up to meet Dean’s mouth when he sucks at one of Cas’ nipples. Dean flicks it with the tip of his tongue and it pebbles, hard in Dean’s mouth while Cas writhes under him. 

He moves down and takes his time, making sure his lips brush over every inch of Cas’ body before he focuses on Cas’ cock laying flushed and leaking against Cas’ taught stomach. Dean runs a finger down the length of it and it makes Cas jerk his hips and beg for more. 

“You’re beautiful, damn,” Dean murmurs. It makes Cas whimper in his throat. 

Dean leans back, intent on making Cas as comfortable as possible. He coaxes Cas’ hips up and puts a pillow under them, lifting Cas off the bed so his legs can fall open. Cas just watches, his mouth a little slack as Dean moves him, manhandles him around until Cas is where he wants him. 

Dean gets distracted by him, under the lights of the room— _ their room— _ the colors painting his skin a kaleidoscope of color. 

When he reaches for the lube in their nightstand, he comes back with the camera too. Cas flushes when he sees it but spreads his legs wider, inviting Dean to take what pictures he wants. Their camera by the bed has the most fun. 

He works his way up Cas’ body, framing his shots, close ups of Cas’ sharp hip bones, of the splash of iris across Cas’ thick thigh, and the bolt of midnight blue across his chest. Dean takes pictures of Cas’ lips clamped between his teeth, of his lovely fingers pulling his hair. Cas preens and his breath catches in his throat every time Dean presses the shutter. 

Dean has to kiss Cas’ bobbing Adam’s apple every other picture or so.

He’s almost done, taking a few shots of his own hand stroking Cas’ cock when Cas’ hand comes to join his. Dean snaps another picture and knows it’s time to put the camera away. 

“I’m getting jealous of that camera,” Cas pouts. “Both your hands should be on me.” 

Dean clicks his tongue. “You always this greedy on your birthday?” He holds up their favorite lube. “I don’t know if you deserve this, now, after I bought us a brand new bottle.” Dean checks the label and tries not to smile at Cas’ cute frown. “Gilda cooked up a new flavor too—lavender honey—well, I wonder who told her that might be your favorite?” 

“Dean,” Cas whines. “You’re going to tease me on my birthday?” He sticks that bottom lip out and Dean has to taste it. He sucks on it for a minute before letting go and shaking his head. 

“Course not, sweetheart,” Dean seals his reassurance with a kiss. “Remind me tomorrow.” 

Cas swats at Dean’s shoulder with a laugh. Dean drops down, his weight spreading Cas’ legs wider while he sucks at the curve of Cas’ neck. “Like you told me, just remember to breathe,” he whispers in Cas’ ear before he drops between Cas’ legs, his hands wrapping around Cas’ thighs as Dean spreads him open. Cas moans and his pretty hole flutters. Dean’s hands slip down so he can thumb at Cas’ rim with both, spreading him open. 

Cas tenses when Dean touches him so he leans in to press his lips to the inside of Cas’ thigh. “I got you, babe,” Dean breathes against the crease in Cas’ thighs. He trails kiss after kiss after kiss, lower and lower until Cas isn’t tense any more and then Dean kisses Cas’ rim before flattening his tongue and running it over Cas’ hole. Cas cries out and digs a heel into Dean’s back and then, Dean makes him fall apart. 

Hot, flat swipes over Cas’ hole with his tongue has Cas writhing; Dean has to hold his hips still. “Have to get you wet for me, sweetheart,” Dean mutters, his lips brushing Cas’ rim. Cas is making noises Dean’s never heard him make and Dean needs a moment to compose himself. He rolls his head so he can open the lube and wet a few fingers. Cas pulls at his hair. 

“Dean, why’d you stop,” Cas slurs, tugging at Dean’s hair. Dean slicks up his fingers and slides them over Cas’ sweet pucker. Cas hums, content again. 

Dean uses his tongue and fingers to get Cas ready to take his cock. He wants Cas to take every inch of him and love it. He takes his time, spreading Cas open until Dean has three fingers inside him and Cas is begging for Dean to fuck him. 

Dean sucks on Cas’ stretched rim again, just because it makes Cas’ moans get higher and Dean loves to hear his name falling out of Cas’ mouth. 

“Dean, please,  _ please,” _ Cas pleads and Dean groans against his rim. 

He twists his wrist and gives his fingers inside Cas a little wiggle. Cas keens when Dean finds his prostate and fuck, Dean wants to hear that again. He brushes his fingers against it again, and again, until Cas’ cock spurts pre-come onto his belly. Dean kisses his rim and pulls his fingers from inside Cas, slow but appreciating the gorgeous sounds coming from Cas’ mouth as he does it. 

“How’s the lube feel?” Dean’s lips tingle from brushing them against Cas’ rim, the weed infused lube the cause. 

Cas wiggles his hips. “Incredible,” he growls. “We may need to buy out her stock.” 

Dean huffs a laugh against Cas’ stretched and open hole. Cas squirms and digs both heels into Dean’s back. Dean can’t resist one more taste and he dips his tongue inside Cas, licking deep. It’s hot and slippery and fucking filthy when Cas clenches around his tongue and Dean has to grip his dick to stop himself from coming. Cas’ thighs tighten around his head when Dean groans. 

He pulls away from Cas’ rim wetly, nosing at the softness of his balls and trailing his mouth up to lick and suck them until Cas is pulling at his hair. Cas’ cock is thick and swollen and Dean’s almost sorry for a second that his plans to fuck himself on it got ruined. Maybe tomorrow. 

Dean kisses the tip before Cas hauls him the rest of the way to his mouth. 

Cas practically licks his face clean after he realizes Dean’s chin is wet and his lips are salty. His tongue is wicked as it swipes over Dean’s lips and Cas groans when Dean sucks it into his mouth. Long legs wrap around him and Cas rolls his hips up, grinding his ass up into Dean’s cock. It’s slick and fuck, Dean can’t wait to sink into that tight heat. 

He pulls away and Cas groans, his hands desperately trying to pull Dean back. Dean grabs Cas by the wrist and pulls his hand to kiss his palm. Cas looks up at him, eyes full of reverence and desire and he’s breathtaking. 

Dean never wants to let Cas go. 

He guides the hand he’s holding and settles it over Cas’ straining cock. Cas grabs himself and sighs at the contact, stroking himself once before letting go to hold Dean’s thigh. 

He takes his time settling between Cas’ legs, smoothing his hands over Cas’ belly to help him relax. Cas is still staring when Dean looks at him for permission, his request dying on his lips. He’s still looking at Dean like he’s something special and it makes Dean’s breath catch.

Dean’s own cock is painfully hard and he huffs at the bolt of desire that crawls up his spine when he takes himself in hand to slick himself up with lube.

“Oh, Dean, please,” Cas begs so beautifully as he watches Dean touch himself. Dean wonders what Cas would look like begging from his knees. 

_ Winchester, you kinky bastard.  _

Cas is rubbing off on him. 

“Tell me what you want, babe,” Dean asks again, this time with his wet cock pressed against Cas’ hole. 

“Fuck me, Dean,” Cas gives a fucking sinful roll of his hips and his rim catches on the head of Dean’s cock and he pushes, slow, Cas’ hips freezing as Dean pushes against the ring of muscle. 

Dean takes Cas’ hand from where it’s gripping his cock and laces their fingers together. Wide blue eyes find his and Dean smiles and kisses the back of Cas’ hand. “I’ve got you,” Dean murmurs and Cas goes soft, plaint under him. He lets his knees fall open where they had been tense and Dean pushes one of Cas’ thighs up before moving his hips forward to push his cock inside of Cas. 

Cas’ breath quickens and becomes a whine as Dean slowly pushes inside of him. His hand is crushing Dean’s, so he slows, in case it’s overwhelming. Cas clenches around his cock and it’s taking every trick he knows not to come. 

“You’re doing so well, Cas, fuck I wish you could see this,” Dean kisses Cas’ calf with fluttering kisses until Cas’ breathing slows and he relaxes again. 

Dean moves, slow but steady and a low rumble starts in Cas’ chest as Dean goes deeper, all the way until Cas is flush against him, spread over Dean’s cock. Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, the sight of himself buried inside of Cas’ ass more than Dean ever thought it would be. 

Cas is no better, his legs open and spread around Dean, the muscles in his stomach rippling everytime he takes a shuddering breath. His nipples are swollen, hard nubs and Dean makes a note to care for them later. Cas’ mouth is bitten red and his eyes are dark and lust blown. There’s a hand in his hair yanking at it and Dean leans in to stop him. Cas cries out, Dean’s cock going deeper and curving up with the shift in Dean’s hips.

“Fuck, Cas—babe, you’re so tight,” Dean groans. “So fucking perfect,” he confesses, grinding his hips. 

“Move, Dean—please,” Cas cries out and yes, fuck, Dean will do whatever Cas wants. 

He slides himself all the way out of Cas, letting the head of his cock linger against Cas’ rim before he slides back inside, hot and smooth and fuck, Cas feels so good, Dean has to do it again. And again. Slow, letting the fire spark in his belly and grow, Cas squirming under him, his cock leaking pre-come until it’s dripping down his sides. 

Dean drags his fingers through it and feeds it to Cas. He sucks Dean’s fingers so deep into his mouth Dean thinks he’s gonna gag but he just works his tongue around and between them until he can’t taste any bit of himself anymore and then he’s just letting Dean’s fingers rest in his mouth. Dean presses down on Cas’ tongue before removing his fingers and picks up the pace.

Cas’ eyes roll back as Dean moves, his strokes still long and deep. “God, Dean, you feel amazing,” he pants.

“Yeah? Feels good, doesn’t it, told you I’d take care of you,” Dean leans down to kiss Cas, not wanting to ruin his stride but unable to resist that mouth for a second longer. Cas moans, every shift of Dean’s hips hitting a new spot inside him. “Yeah Cas, you’re incredible, taking my cock so well. Think you can take more, honey?” 

Dean nuzzles Cas jaw and Cas swallows hard. His hands wrap around Dean’s head and he kisses him, deep and sweet. Fuck, Dean loves him so much. 

Cas is nodding when they break apart. “Want you, Dean. Give me everything, please,” he’s breathless in his requests and Dean’s powerless to resist. 

He gathers Cas in his arms and grinds his hips into Cas’ ass before he moves. Cas tightens his legs around Dean and claws at his back as Dean moves, a slow build until he’s snapping his hips against Cas and fuck, the wet slide and the sound of their bodies meeting is almost pornographic. Cas cock is trapped between their bodies and when Dean reaches between them to stroke it, his name becomes a mantra falling from Cas’ lips. 

“Want you to come with me, honey,” It’s Dean’s turn to beg now because no matter what he does, Cas can always make Dean want him more than anything. 

“Yes, Dean, my love,” Cas is babbling now. “I’m close, I’m so close,” he rolls his hips to meet every one of Dean’s thrusts. “Please, baby, come in me, Dean,” he groans and tightens his hips and clenches around Dean’s cock and— _ fuck. _

“Cas,” Dean gasps out as he comes, his hips snapping against Cas’ ass as his cock erupts, his come hot and making Cas even tighter and fuck, Dean can’t think of anything that feels as good as this. 

The space between them grows warm with Cas’ hot release, Dean’s name in his mouth. Dean kisses it out of him, tells him he did so, so good, that he’s fucking perfect and all Dean needs in this world. He keeps them locked together until he’s forced to clean them up, leaving Cas to nestle in the blankets and enjoy his post orgasm high. 

Cas’ arms are open when Dean crawls back into bed and it’s the only place he wants to be. They don’t sleep right away, opting instead to share a bowl and spend the rest of the night giggling over the events of the day and sharing some pie Baz made them. 

Dean goes to sleep with one thought on his mind after Cas tells him it was the best birthday he’s ever had. 

_ Challenge accepted. _


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for Fan and her Wonder Woman fantasies.

Not many people know this, but Dean Winchester loves Halloween. Thanksgiving comes a close second (only because of the food) but Halloween is fucking awesome. First, candy. Second, spooky shit and scary movies and third, fuckin’ costumes.

Some of the best times of Dean’s life were on Halloween when Sam was a kid. Their dad never gave a shit what they were up to, long as they were home before midnight. For years, Dean dressed up right along with Sam, the two of them spending the weeks leading up making costumes from shit around the house, or stuff they found in Bobby’s collection of weird.

Dean taught himself how to sew making them their first set of Hogwarts robes. He should find the pictures from that year and show them to Charlie.

They ran with a little crew, kids from the neighborhood and from school; Ash and Andy, Jo, and Sam’s friends Jessica and Brady. They both moved away before Sam started high school but Jo and Ash were still around when Dean left Lawrence.

Halloween was always the one night a year Dean let himself be a kid.

And it’s why, on October first, he walks inside the house, a box tucked under one arm and a plastic bag hanging from the other. Dean finds Cas painting and puts his loot down and takes off his gun belt before approaching his favorite artist. Cas is wearing one of Dean’s PT shirts, or at least, what used to be one of Dean’s PT shirts. The sleeves are missing and there’s a splash of evergreen paint across the chest, covering the SFPD letters printed there.

Dean was looking for that shirt yesterday.

Cas looks up at Dean’s heavy footsteps and his eyes darken as he takes in Dean approaching him in full uniform. It’s fuckin’ patrol day in goddamn October and Dean could feel it today. He swapped out his regular undershirt for his turtleneck after finding out he was on patrol and he didn’t change out of it before going home.

“Frisk anyone today, officer?” Cas asks before tilting his head up for a kiss.

Dean obliges, indulging in those soft lips before he answers. “No, wanna be the first?” He wiggles his eyebrows and goes back to his box.

He can hear Cas pad across the hardwood to see what Dean’s got. Dean swears Cas is like a cat, he has to inspect every package that comes in the house.

Cas rummages in Dean’s bag from the drugstore, pulling out the bag of assorted chocolate he picked up on the way home.

“Snickers?” Cas holds it up in confusion.

“And Milky Way, Twix, and I think some Reeses too.”

Cas’ eyebrows jump into his hairline and he turns the bag in his hands, licking his lips.

_Shoulda got two bags._

“Ha!” Dean’s triumphant when he picks the tape open to get inside the cardboard box he picked up from the garage at Charlie’s. There’s a few more downstairs that Dean needs to bring up still. He rips the packing tape free of the box and grins when he opens the flaps to reveal his Halloween decorations.

“Time to decorate for Halloween, babe.”

Cas tilts his head. “You enjoy Halloween?”

“Fuck yes, who doesn’t!” Dean pulls out pumpkins and strands of orange and white lights. He tells Cas about Halloween growing up and Cas’ smile grows as Dean talks. Cas helps him bring up the other boxes and they spend the evening decorating around their room and even downstairs.

They’re having a few beers in the kitchen when they’re done, Cas sitting on a stool and Dean leaning next to him so they can make out lazily between drinks, when Gabe comes home.

“I think someone vandalized the first floor,” he shrugs out of his jacket. “But instead of spray paint, they used fake spider webs. You two know anything about that?”

“Dean loves Halloween,” Cas announces, his smile gummy. “We’re celebrating Halloween this year.”

“That so?” Gabe grabs his own beer out of the fridge. “And what kind of couples costume will you two be doing?”

Dean sits up straighter. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind but Gabe’s right, they’re a couple which means he can— _oh fuck yeah._ He turns to see Cas as excited as Dean expects he looks.

Gabe watches them with a look of mild disgust. “I might think you two dorks were cute if you weren’t so gross.”

He leaves them alone and it’s nobody else's business if they stay up all night talking about potential costumes.

Dean texts Sam the next morning to propose a group costume which then prompts a conference call that night between them and Charlie.

Dean's putting the finishing touches on dinner, his spaghetti sauce almost done. It's been simmering all day and he's had to kick both Novak brothers out of his kitchen way too many times because of it.

The brother he likes best is hovering with torn pieces of garlic bread in his hands, ready to dip every time Dean turns his back.

“You're nailing the cute part but you're not so helpful tonight, sweetheart,” Dean says after swatting Cas away from the stove again.

“What was that, Dean?” Sam asks, his voice tinny over the speakerphone.

“Sorry—Cas is tryin’ to eat all my sauce and it's making a goddamn mess.”

“It’s very drippy,” Cas reports and Dean rolls his eyes.

“If you'd let it get thicker—”

“Dude!”

“Guys!”

The two of them stop bickering for a second at the alarm coming from the phone. A drop of marinara hits the floor and Dean scowls.

Cas is trying not to laugh, bless his heart.

“It's fucking spaghetti, you animals!”

“Sure, Dean.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“If you guys are done being gross, could we move on?” Cas smirks at Sam’s vocal bitch face and Dean shakes his head. “So, did we settle on DC Universe? Cas? Are you willing to concede Dean as Captain America for Dean as Batman?”

“That means I don’t get to be Tony Stark.” Cas’ eyes narrow.

“It’s Stucky, _not_ Stony! We’re not having this conversation again, Cas!” Charlie is—well, shrill and Dean grimaces. Cas pissed Charlie off good over this one.

Cas throws his hands up, the little baby. “If I don’t get to be Iron Man, then DC is fine with me.”

Dean makes a note to keep Cas and Charlie out of the comic book store together for a while. “You’re gonna look great in green tights, Robin,” he says with a kiss to Cas’ pout.

“Don’t worry Cas, Robin’s a badass and he eventually gets his own spin off. A few actually,” Charlie muses, apparently over it.  

“I prefer Jason Todd,” Dean’s serving dinner. “So, DC then kids? I’ve got a starving artist to feed.”

He receives murmured noises of agreement from the phone.

“Sweet. Sammy, I’ll call you about costumes.” He sets down their plates and Cas settles next to him with a few glasses of red wine. “Charles, I hope you want spaghetti for lunch tomorrow.”

“Fuckin’ lucky,” Sam moans. “Dean, make me spaghetti next time I come over.”

Cas grins.

“Yeah, yeah moose, whatever you want. Talk to y’all tomorrow.”

They say goodnight and Cas eats his dinner happily. Dean’s thinking it’s gonna be easier to rent his costume, Sammy’s too probably. After finding out Dean was a Halloween junkie, Cas talked to Meg and got the scoop on a bunch of parties happening in the Art District. The block gets shut down every year and the studios open to host adult trick or treating and everyone dresses up and gets stupid. It’s gonna be fuckin’ awesome, from what Dean gathers.

And they’re gonna look badass.

Halloween approaches and Dean’s got his costume secure. He offered to get Cas’ costume but Cas told him he’d take care of it. Dean hasn’t seen it yet and he’s getting nervous.

The night before Halloween, they confirm plans for the next day. Dean has to work almost until they’re supposed to leave so Cas makes plans to get ready with Charlie and Gilda and then they’ll all meet up at their first stop. The art co-op Cas and Meg go to is having a party and from there, they’ll follow the trail of people.

Cas reassures Dean his costume is already at Charlie’s and then he rims Dean half to death, making him forget everything, including his own name.

Dean’s running late and the traffic isn’t helping. All day, Dean’s been visiting hospitals and clinics dressed in his Batman costume, delivering books to kids. With Charlie’s help, they threw together a small book drive in the building and the boys in blue showed up, donating enough books to keep him and a few other officers busy all day with deliveries.

The kids had fun and Dean got a kick out of signing autographs and taking selfies with them. Every time he came across another little Batman or even a tiny Joker, he’d act out a little fight with them. The kids seemed to like it and it made Dean laugh. Win-win.

Dean can’t wait to tell Cas about it. He’s been sending him pictures all day.

Charlie kept him in the loop, sending Dean pictures of them getting ready, Charlie looking bad fucking ass as Harley Quinn and Gilda making a sexy Joker. Dean loves a good gender bend.

The only picture he gets of Cas is him holding a pair of red speedos in front of his face, his chest bare. Dean’s itching to see him in full costume.

The whole drive home, people have been honking from other cars and whistling at him from the street. He probably looks fucking badass driving Baby dressed as Batman, now that he thinks about it. Dean gives out an acceptable amount of winks and finger guns before he gets to the garage.

Once Baby is tucked in for the night, he walks the couple of blocks down to the studio, an open co-op for artists to come and work. Cas doesn’t need it with the studio at home but he goes whenever he collaborates with other artists, or just to hang out with Meg.

It takes Dean forever to get over there, getting stopped on the street for pictures and shit when all he wants to do is get to his boyfriend. It's fun at first but then he kind of adopts a Batman-esque commanding stride and people move out of his way.

_Fucking awesome._

He’s riding high by the time he gets to the studio, big picture windows bright with a line of black pumpkins, glowing blue inside. Black webs and branches cover the window but he thinks he can see Sam inside. Dean pushes past a couple of vampires and steps inside, only to have a very hot Harley Quinn thread her arm through his, the spikes on her wrist cuff scraping against his costume.

“Don’t let the Joker see us, heard she’s possessive.” Dean can’t see Gilda anywhere.

Charlie grins up at him. “Have you seen my ass in these shorts? You would be too!”

Dean doesn’t think those really qualify as shorts but he rolls his eyes anyway and hugs his best friend. “You look badass, Red—or should I say Blondie, uh Blue—” Dean tilts his head and tries to frame out Charlie’s wig with his hands. “And Pink?” He shrugs.

“Ok, Bruce, don’t hurt yourself.” She looks him up and down. “Hot. Jawline looking chiselled.”

He waves her off. “Where’s Cas? Am I the last one here?”

Charlie nods. “Yup. And I don’t know where Cas is, he went off with Meg when we got here.” She points towards the back. “There’s a few bars set up, check those. Bring me back something pink! Oh and Dean!” He pauses and turns back to her. She’s smirking her dangerous smirk. “Cas looks great.”

_Duh. When doesn’t he? Pushy villains and their pink drinks and innuendo._

There’s some weird remixed version of Thriller on that sounds cool and Dean bobs his head while he keeps his eyes peeled for Cas. Scanning the room, it’s hard to miss the six foot four Superman standing by the bar. He changes his path but looks over the room again, looking for any flash of red or maybe a black cape. Dean hopes Cas is wearing a cape.

“Hey, you guys look great,” Dean flashes Sam and Sarah a thumbs up. Or, shit—Superman and Supergirl. They look fuckin’ awesome, Sam’s hair slicked back except for the signature Superman curl in the front and Sarah’s gorgeous in her costume, her heels almost making her Sam’s height. It’s a good fuckin’ night for capes, Dean can say that much.

Sarah gives him a big hug, bigger than usual. “Dean! You look so good, doesn’t your brother look so good, Sam?” Now the hug makes sense, Sarah’s hammered.

Dean grins at Sam. “Yeah, Sam, don’t I look so good?” He slings an arm around Sarah. “Supergirl thinks so.”

“Supergirl’s been drinking since noon,” Sam looks at her in disbelief. “I don’t know how she’s standing.”

“You got yourself a trooper Sam,” Dean says, twirling Sarah back into Superman’s arms. No need to encourage any weird shippers in attendance, seeing Batman and Supergirl together.

“You guys see Cas?” he asks The Supers.

“Oh! Oh, wait till you see him,” Sarah gushes and Sam snorts, steering her away from the bar.

“I’m gonna take her out for some air, catch up in a few?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna grab a drink and find my trusty sidekick.” He grabs a bottle of water and tosses it to Sam.

Sam nods and steers Sarah through the crowd, his big hands dwarfing her shoulders. Dean scans the room for what feels like the hundredth time and still doesn’t see Cas. He’s sure he’s off with Meg doing god knows what so Dean’s gonna head to the back after he grabs a beer. Thank fuck he’s next in line, he could go for a shot or ten.

“Shit, did you see that guy dressed like Wonder Woman? He’s even confusing my very lesbian ass.” The tiny Velma in front of him is waiting for the bar with her friend— _ooh_ —Daphne. Dean always had a thing for Daphne.

Velma shakes her head in disbelief. “I wonder if he realizes he looks like he just got fucked, walking around with that hair,” she muses.

Daphne laughs. “Should I be worried?” She loops her arms around Velma’s neck and leans in to kiss her, Velma threading her fingers into Daphne’s hair. Dean’s eyebrows raise and suddenly fourteen-year-old Dean is _very_ confused.

_Eh, still hot._

_Jesus, where the hell is his boyfriend?_

Cas would love a pair of Scooby Doo lesbians. They’d be having dinner with them in a week. Dean takes his phone out to text him.

**< <Babe, you’re missing Daphne and Velma makin’ out in front of me. Where are you?**

He hasn’t gotten a message back by the time he gets his drink so Dean decides to brave the crowd and fuck, there’s a crap load of people here. He passes the rest of the Scooby Gang and a gaggle of Disney princesses and Dean swears he’s found Waldo at least four times by now. Still no sign of his boyfriend but he keeps hearing more mentions of the hot guy dressed as Wonder Woman and every time, Dean scoffs. These people haven’t seen Cas who’s always the hottest guy in any room.

Dean’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out to see a new message from Cas. He reads it while a group of guys dressed like The Beatles (Sgt. Pepper, _nice_ ) pass in front of him.

**> >I’m in the back.**

_Well, duh._

The last of his beer drained, Dean decides to grab drinks for them both before diving into the depths of the studio space. Some asshat is standing way too close to his back, practically breathing into Dean’s fuckin’ ear and yeah, he gets how parties work but fuck, some people need to work on their personal space.

He’s about to turn around and tell the asshole to back up when a familiar throat clearing rings in his ear.

_There’s his Boy Wonder._

“And who might you be dressed as?” Cas purrs in his ear and the sound shoots straight to Dean’s dick. Dean smirks since Cas set him up to turn around and look totally badass.

“I’m—”  

Dean turns and the words die on his tongue.

Cas stands so close Dean needs to take a step back to take him in. A star-plated tiara sits on his forehead, his hair the wildest Dean’s ever seen it. Velma was right, it's fucking sex hair and Dean’s hands twitch to touch it. Cas is smirking and oh fuck—fuck, he’s wearing eyeliner and it’s entirely possible Dean’s heart stops.

It pains him to tear his eyes away from those kohl rimmed baby blues dark in the low light, Cas’ gaze cocky and burning through Dean’s soul. Cas licks his plump lips and Dean’s eyes flick down on their own, drawn to Cas’ mouth. His gaze drifts down and he chokes a little to see Cas wearing the goddamn corset, the chest plated gold and his delicious collar bones exposed, his strong shoulders bare. His waist is trim and tight and Dean wants to unwrap him right in the middle of the studio.

The Lasso of Truth hangs from Cas’ hip.

He groans when he sees Cas in the blue plated skirt, his thighs—oh god, Cas’ thighs are muscular and flexing and Dean’s eyes keep drifting and he has to press a hand to his chest when he sees that Cas has gone all in, wearing Wonder Woman’s boots, wedge heel and all.

_Easily, top ten—fuck top five sexiest things that’s ever happened to him._

“Fuck,” Dean swears under his breath. Someone wolf whistles at Cas from the crowd and it breaks the tension, both of them huffing out laughs before they're reaching for each other. Dean stumbles a little in his haste to close the gap between them, his hands going around Cas’ firm hips, his waist cinched tight. God, Dean’s fingers could probably touch if he tried. Instead, he tugs Cas in to kiss him, finally, another laugh rumbling out of Cas’ mouth and into his.

Dean swallows it.

“Fuck, you look so good,” Dean murmurs between kisses and giggles between them. Cas pulls back enough to wind their hands together. Dean’s mad the kissing stopped but now Cas is checking _him_ out and he can’t help but posture just a little. Gotta make it worth Cas’ while.

He tightens his jaw and squares his shoulders, adopting a casual military pose while keeping his chest high. Cas runs a hand down Dean’s chest plate and hums appreciatively. He pulls them together again, his arms going around Dean’s neck and his hands coming around the back of Dean’s head, the cuffs of submission on Cas’ wrist in working condition. Dean slides his hands around and grabs Cas’ ass, barely covered by that fucking skirt and damn, Dean can’t help but groan into Cas’ mouth as they kiss.

“We shoot the porn here on Tuesdays, darlings.”

They pull apart gasping, their chests heaving as they try to settle down, surprised by Balthazar’s teasing. A small crowd has gathered, thankfully just their friends and not randos even though, Dean knows they probably look really fucking hot together. He knows Cas is the hottest guy in the damn room and he has intermittent gossip to back him up this time instead of just like, eyesight.

“Well, I’ll be damned, I never knew Batman was bowlegged,” Meg’s sarcasm drips down his spine. Dean gets a lot of satisfaction when Cas leans around and flips her off for him with a grin on his face the whole time.

Meg is (appropriately) dressed as a demon. Dean’s being generous with the word _dressed,_ but he’s willing to concede she looks good in her red corset and barely there shorts, her black curls loose around her shoulders, a ruby red pair of glittery demon horns on her head. He has no idea how she’s gonna walk in those stilettos all night but its not his problem. Baz’s costume is incredible, a large pair of white wings strapped to his back, a pair of black slacks sitting low on his hips, shirtless but shimmery when the light hits him. He looks great, pure, and it makes Dean grin at the irony considering he just found out about the orgies.

Dean’s surprised to see Max between them and looking incredibly content to be there and also, incredible dressed up as Prince.

They know some damn good-looking people.

“So what are you two supposed to be, the angel and the devil on his shoulders?” Dean jokes.

“Yes, except the angel is the one who knows where all the good parties are. Cassie here says you’ll be joining us?”

Dean takes another long look at Cas, weighing his options.

“We’re staying out for a while,” Cas replies, shaking his head at Dean’s pout. “Come on, Mr. Wayne, let’s get drunk.”

The night gets away from them, turning into a blur of shots taken, joints passed, and kisses exchanged. The group’s turned it into a drinking game, calling for shots anytime Dean and Cas kiss for longer than five seconds or stare longer than ten. It’s no wonder everyone is hammered as they stumble around the Art district, wondering back into the Castro where they’re having their own fucking party, the businesses open and serving drinks and food.

Everywhere they stop, people take their pictures. The six of them make a fine looking group of DC Heroes and people think it’s fucking cool that the Joker has boobs and that Batman and Wonder Woman can’t keep their hands off each other.

They lose Sarah and Sam first, Sam pouring her into a Lyft and promising to call Dean in the morning. They’re staying with some of Sarah’s friends across the bridge. Charlie and Gilda go after, off to another part of town. Next stop is a closed Fable where Baz drags them inside for a round of Irish Coffee and pie.

Dean’s pulled his mask off, fucking finally, and Cas won’t stop running his fingers through his hair. They lean against the bar to share a slice of pie and Dean’s getting hard feeding it to Cas in small bites. Before each one, Cas’ tongue darts out to wet his lips before they part for the fork, the tines pressing into Cas’ bottom lip and then sliding out, wet but licked clean.

Dean loves to kiss Cas like this so he does, desperate for those lips to be on his and Cas tastes like apples and cinnamon and it makes Dean lick into his mouth, hungry for him. He’s regretting not living steps away anymore.

Cas’s smile is wicked when he tugs Dean by the hand so they can slip into the back patio. He presses Dean against the door he just closed and kisses him, his mouth hot and still sweet. Dean’s hand works across Cas’ hip and Cas pulls away, breathless.

He cups his hand over Dean’s and guides it down and over his thigh. All night Dean’s been pawing at them, stroking and squeezing Cas’ thick muscles any chance he’s had. He does it now and Cas moans, like fire licking into Dean’s mouth. He guides Dean’s hand higher, higher until Dean’s hand is under his skirt. Dean swallows, thick and his chest heaves. He doesn’t need Cas’ help anymore and Cas’ hand drifts up and away, over Dean’s shoulder and around the back of his neck.

Dean pushes Cas’ skirt up, Cas whispering a breathy, “yeah,” into Dean’s ear. His cock feels heavy in his already tight pants as he ruts against Cas’ thigh, drawing in a sharp breath when he finds what’s underneath.

“I still wanted to give our girl Lynda Carter some love,” Cas explains, spreading his thighs to show Dean the incredibly fucking sexy panties he has on. They’re royal blue with white stars and they look incredible on him, riding high on his flexing hip. Dean’s mouth goes dry.

Cas grins and guides Dean’s hand so it’s pressing against his hard cock over the smooth satin. Dean kisses his neck and palms Cas’ dick and Cas is making these sweet fucking sounds in his throat and fuck—Dean wants to get them home, now.

“We gotta go—lets—fuck, home baby.”

Cas chuckles and turns around in his arms, sliding his hands back to flip his skirt up and fuck Dean’s entire existence—the Lynda Carter panties are a thong. And _shit_ —does Cas have a sweet ass. Dean wants to bend him over the table next to them and—  

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing to me, I suggest you take me home and do it,” Cas whispers, low in Dean’s ear, his breath hot and yeah, that's a good idea Cas has.

They stumble back into the bar area laughing and wrapped around each other. Dean covers Cas’ erection with his body, keeping Cas molded against his back and under his cape. Dean doesn’t need any gawkers on the way home scoping his boyfriends ass. Which, by the way, Dean hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of all night but it can’t be helped, the way it peeks out of the bottom of Cas’ skirt, his fucking art on the back of his thighs making Dean want to drop to his knees and fuck, the things those heels do to Cas’ legs. And now that Dean knows what’s underneath...

_Yeah, he needs to get Cas home now._

They say their goodnights and get their cheek kisses and a light groping sesh that both are too drunk to want to refute. Dean’s really interested in the way Max hung around all night and happily patted Dean and Cas’ asses before they left and he stayed, despite their offer to walk him the few steps home.

A devil and an angel corrupting another innocent.

Good for them.

Now Dean’s gonna take Wonder Woman home and do things to him that Batman would never even dream.

Cas pulls his vape pen out of his corset—hot—and passes it to Dean while they walk the block and a half home. The smoke sinks into his bones before he passes it back. Dean stretches his cape over Cas’ shoulder and Wonder Woman tucks himself into Dean’s side.

“I can’t believe you’ve been wearing those _all fucking night, Cas,”_ Dean emphasizes, appalled that it took his boyfriend all this time to push Dean’s hand up his skirt. Of all the things in the world to deprive him of. And on Dean’s favorite night of the year.

“I kept waiting for you to get grabbier but you didn’t,” Cas says on an exhale.

Dean scoffs, “excuse you, I’m a gentleman.” He stops them and pulls Cas to him, Cas melting into him without hesitating. Dean slips his hand under Cas skirt and gropes him, letting his fingers drag against the curve of his ass.

Cas makes a desperate noise in this throat so Dean kisses it. “How many laws are we breaking right now?” he asks.

Dean pretends to think for a second. “Mmm at _least_ five, six with the way you’re dressed, I’m pretty sure. I’d have to check my—”  

Cas kisses him with a giggle. “Maybe I need to be frisked.”

A curl of heat twists in Dean’s belly. He gives Cas a heated smile and squeezes the globes of his ass, making Cas gasp against his mouth. Cas’ eyes darken and fuck being on the street because the way Cas looks at him makes Dean want to find a dark corner and take care of business, actual public indecency be damned. Before he has a chance, Cas is walking fast towards their house and Dean has to jog to keep up.

“You know, last time you looked at me like that, I got laid,” Dean points out and Cas shoots him a devious look over his shoulder. Dean moves faster.

Cas has their door unlocked and is halfway up the stairs before Dean can even figure out where the fuck he was keeping his keys. He hurries after and pulls off parts of his armour because there is no fucking time to waste, he needs to have Cas inside him ASAP. Cas smirks at him when he notices and is quick to get them to their room.

“How are you so good at that?”

“Opening doors?”

“You never drop your keys,” Dean accuses. “I always drop my keys.” He throws down another piece of his costume.

Cas stops flipping lights off, leaving just the lights on around their bed. He tilts his head. “You’re easy to fluster.” He messes with his phone and the sound of Lo-Fi hip hop filters through the room.

“Are you saying _you_ fluster _me,_ but I don’t fluster _you_ enough to make you drop your keys?” Dean purses his lips. “That’s bullshit.” He pulls the chest piece of his costume over his head. Cas grins at his Batman undershirt. “Wait,” Dean smirks back and holds up a finger before he drops his pants to show Cas his Underoos and the Batman logo across his ass.

Cas laughs and whistles low and it makes Dean laugh. “Like em’, sweetheart? Knew you would.” He rolls his hips and lifts the front of his shirt to show off his abs. Cas’ eyebrows go higher than Dean thought possible and it makes him grind a little harder to the quiet beat. Cas is doing a hell of a job keeping it together as Dean approaches, reaching for him before he gets there.

Big, strong hands wrap around his back and Dean accepts a kiss before leaning back to take off Cas’ tiara. “God, you looked so good tonight baby,” Dean murmurs. “Really surprised me with this,” He kisses along Cas’ jaw, his stubble creating a sweet burn.

Cas brushes his lips over the shell of Dean’s ear. “I’m so glad you liked it,” Cas says, his voice heavy with want.

“Fuckin’ loved it, babe,” Dean sucks at the underside of Cas’ jaw. “You’re incredible, Cas. So fucking perfect for me,” he murmurs into Cas’ skin, willing his words to melt into him. “Best surprise I’ve ever gotten.”

He slides his hands home, right under Cas’ skirt to slip his fingers under Cas’ panties. Cas groans when Dean tugs on them. Cas’ cock is hard against Dean’s hip, higher than usual, thanks to Cas’ heels and fuck, Dean just wants to take a second to look and appreciate all that Cas has going on right now.

He steps back, Cas’ hands dropping to his side. Dean takes one and pulls it out, Cas picking up that Dean wants to look at him. Cas preens and god, he’s gorgeous and he’s Dean’s and Dean can’t wait another moment to get his mouth on him.

“Can I help you out of your costume,” Dean asks, his voice rough as he turns Cas around. Cas’ corset is laced tight, and Dean rubs one of the silky ribbons between his fingers. It looks so delicate, he’s worried about ruining it and he doesn’t want that. Dean rubs his thumb along the top of the corset, Cas’ skin warm. He shivers under Dean’s touch.

“In the middle of my back, there’s a bow. Untie it,” Cas instructs with a low growl to his voice. “You’ll unlace from there out.” His voice hitches on the last word when Dean kisses in between his shoulder blades.

Dean takes his time with the red ribbons, unlacing Cas and letting them flutter against his shoulders. Cas hums low in his throat when Dean does it and he can’t keep from touching him, his hands sweeping over shoulders or Cas’ hip while he works. Finally unlaced and open, the corset falls to the ground, Dean having forgotten about it in favor of Cas’ tattoo, the buddha’s shading catching his eye. Cas had an appointment recently and it’s finally healed enough for Dean to touch.

Cas skirt still sits on his hips and Dean runs his fingertips under the waistband, Cas sighing into the darkness.

“I think we should leave this on, sweetheart,” Dean suggests and Cas moans, nodding and pressing back against Dean. “I think I’d like you fuck me while you wear it,” he says, his lips brushing against Cas’ ear.

Cas shivers and every sound from his lips is filled with desire as Dean drags his mouth down the long, thick line of Cas’ neck to his shoulder where he bites into Cas’ thick traps. He soothes his tongue over the marks before continuing down, his mouth exploring the peaks and valleys of Cas’ long, gorgeous back.

Dean goes to his knees and admires the curve of Cas’ ass peeking out of the bottom of the skirt, part of it rucked up from Dean’s hands. He leans in and pushes the skirt up to nip at Cas’ round ass cheek, Cas sucking in a sharp breath above him. His hands drift down Cas’ legs and over the boots, Cas’ calves firm inside them. He kisses the art on Cas’ thighs before he drags down the zipper on the back of each boot, putting a steadying hand on Cas’ hip to help him step out of them.

Feet finally bare, Cas’ flexes his toes while Dean kisses his calves, warm from being covered all night. He guides Cas around to face him and Dean looks up into wide eyes, the eyeliner smudged where Cas rubbed at it, making his eyes look darker. Cas’ lips are pink and wet from sucking on them and Dean uses every ounce of strength he has to stay on his knees. He wants to take Cas and kiss him and kiss him until both their lips are chapped and their mouths are tired.

Cas’ hand threading through his hair pulls Dean back to the moment so he can drag his eyes away from Cas’, even though he doesn’t really want to. He focuses instead on Cas’ thighs and covering them with kisses before he moves, pushing Cas’ skirt up to enjoy his star spangled panties and what’s under them.

Cas’ hips twitch and his hand clenches in Dean’s hair when Dean runs his nose along the length of Cas’ hard cock, thick and straining against satin. Dean holds the skirt against Cas’ stomach before Cas takes over, leaving Dean to use both his hands to run his fingers under the thin straps of Cas’ panties. Dean has no idea how they held him all night and as incredible as he looks in them, Dean wants to taste him.

He hooks two fingers under the band to pull them down, Cas’ thick cock springing free and bobbing between them. Dean licks his lips and Cas moans when Dean presses them to the head of his cock. He looks up to find Cas staring, his chest heaving and his bottom lip clamped between his teeth.

Dean doesn’t look away when he dips his tongue into the slit before swallowing as much of Cas down as he can, his hand helping stroke Cas the rest of the way. Cas’ cock is thick and heavy and Dean loves it, loves the way he can make Cas lose himself just because Dean’s mouth is on him. He bobs his head and breathes, lets his throat relax until the head of Cas’ cock is brushing against the back of it.

Cas’ hand on his cheek stills him and Dean looks up into Cas’ eyes filled with trust and fondness and a hint of fire around the edges, like he kinda wants to wreck Dean.

Dean wishes he would.

Something in Dean’s eyes must change because Cas’ eyes darken and he thumbs at Dean’s stretched lips. “Who knew Batman would be so good at sucking cock?”

Dean’s eyes roll back and he groans deep in his throat, his own dick hard and past the point of painful now.

Cas moves his hips back, his cock almost slipping out of Dean’s mouth. Dean furrows his brow but relaxes when Cas pushes it down Dean’s throat again. He rocks in and out of Dean’s mouth, his eyes lust blown.

“You looked incredible tonight, Dean,” Cas sucks in a breath but doesn’t stop moving. “I lost count of how many people stared at you like they wanted to fuck you,” Dean’s heart races and he moans, the sound muffled by Cas’ cock.

“It made me so hard, knowing I’d be the one—” Cas grunts and stills his hips, his eyes burning into Dean’s. Dean sucks and rolls his tongue. Cas breathes deeply. “You are mine, Dean. All those other people can look at you all they want,” Cas grips Dean’s chin. “But look at us now.”

Dean's cheeks burn, Cas’ attention making him hot. Tears prickle behind his eyes.

“Oh fuck Dean, your blush is so beautiful,” Cas caresses his cheekbone.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and makes a disappointed noise when Cas slides his cock out of his mouth. He leaves it long enough for Dean to kiss the tip before the skirt is dropping and he’s hauling Dean off his knees and then he’s being kissed, Cas pulling his shirt off, the cotton dragging over his face and when uncovered, Cas is there and pushing him into their bed.

He doesn’t waste time getting Dean naked but Cas is still wearing his skirt when he pushes Dean’s legs open to get his mouth around Dean’s cock. It’s skilled and he knows where to lick and suck Dean to make him beg, to turn him shameless and needy. Blue eyes stare up at Dean from between his legs and he doesn’t think he’s gonna last long.

Dean clenches the sheets when Cas dips his mouth lower and hums, the vibration making his cock pulse, a fat drop of pre-come dripping down the side. Cas scoops it up with his fingers and spreads it across Dean’s hole, the brush of his fingers making Dean cry out. Cas soothes him by pushing the tip of his tongue into him before he hums again and noses at the inside of Dean’s thigh.

“You taste so good,” he sighs and Dean whimpers. Cas’ mouth is hot and wet, deliciously noisy as he sucks at Dean’s rim and Dean thinks he’s gonna pass out from pleasure alone, his entire body burning with it. He adds his fingers to help tear Dean to pieces and the noises Cas pulls from him with each curl are obscene.

Cas loves it and encourages him, wants to hear Dean tell him how fucking good his tongue feels, how thick his fingers are. He wants Dean to tell him how he can’t wait for Cas to split him apart with his cock. Dean’s happy to, and they both moan when Cas slips a fourth finger inside.

“You’re the loveliest part of my life,” Cas whispers into Dean’s skin and fuck, Dean’s gone, falling into the pleasure of his orgasm and Cas is sucking him down, swallowing every drop of Dean’s come and licking Dean’s skin clean of the rest.

Cas drags his mouth back to Dean’s hole, still full of his fingers and he licks around the spread muscle, making Dean groan and try to blink back the haze of pleasure he’s drifting in. He whines when Cas pulls free of him but grins when Cas slides over and pulls Dean on top of him. The heat under his skin gets him moving, going willingly when Cas spreads Dean’s legs around his hips and slides his cock against Dean’s hole, slick with his spit.

“Your favorite lube is under my pillow,” Cas breathes into Dean’s ear and Dean scrambles for it, helping to pour it in Cas’ waiting hand. He sighs when Cas’ wet cock slides back against his rim and he fidgets while Cas plays, impatient.

“Cas,” Dean huffs. “Please, babe,” Dean looks between them, Cas’ skirt rucked high on his hips and across his belly, Cas’ cock pink and thick. Fuck, Dean wants it inside of him. He whimpers.

“Think you can come on my cock?” Cas asks, his voice dark. Fuck, Dean doesn’t know if he can but he wants to try. A for effort and all that.

“I think you can,” Cas leans up to nip at Dean’s lips, his cock still in his hand and rubbing against Dean’s ass. “I think if I tell you how happy you’d make me, you’d do it for me.”

Dean groans and lifts his hips, Cas helping to guide him with one hand on Dean’s hip. His skin burns where they’re touching. That same heat is inside him as he slowly drops onto Cas’ cock, throwing his head back when the head slips past his ring of muscle. Cas lets go of his cock while Dean slides down, his hand coming up to play with Dean’s nipples, his long fingers pulling and pinching them hard.

“Incredible,” Cas murmurs as Dean seats himself, a sigh leaving his lips as his body adjusts to the weight and girth of Cas’ cock inside him. Dean’s cock fills when Cas takes him in hand, stroking him slow and tight while he rolls his hips. “Oh fuck, look at you, getting hard for me again,” Cas swears and licks his lips. “Want you to come all over me,” he begs and plants his feet to drill up into Dean.

He’s falling apart, meeting every one of Cas’ thrusts by grinding down into him; Cas leaning up to meet him, to pull their bodies together, Dean groaning when their chests meet, Cas claiming his mouth. Strong arms wrap around his waist and Cas fucks into him, every thrust punching another filthy sound out of Dean. Cas swallows every single one.

It feels so good, losing himself to Cas. Dean never wants to let him go.

“I love you, I love you,” Cas’ love spills from his lips and Dean’s coming between them, again, Cas’ fingers digging into Dean to hold his stuttering hips. “Yes, Dean, you’re perfect, I knew you could do it for me, my love,” Cas’ words are precious and Dean holds on to them, holds on to Cas, his final thrust into Dean’s heat filling him as Cas spills inside him. Dean gets lost in the sound of Cas’ pleasure.

Cas takes care of him, helps him into their sheets after wiping them both down with a warm washcloth. Dean’s eyelids are heavy while he watches Cas move around their room, naked while he puts away their costumes. He makes Dean drink water and he fusses with him about sleeping in his underoos.

“Please Dean, you look adorable.”

He was going for sexy but Dean compromises and agrees to sleep in them if Cas sleeps in his Lynda Carter panties too.

Later, when they’re wrapped around each other and Cas asks him if he had a good Halloween, Dean answers without hesitating.

“Best Halloween Ever, Cas.”


	27. Chapter 27

It takes Dean a week to plan their Thanksgiving menu. He considered ordering from Balthazar but after a quick Pinterest search, he figured it couldn’t be too hard to feed eight a Thanksgiving dinner. Dean takes a quick survey of favorites and settles on mac and cheese, green beans, mashed potatoes and fresh baked rolls as their sides, going with two fifteen pound turkeys; one to deep fry and one to cook in the oven. He can send everyone home with leftovers this way. 

It pains him to give up dessert but everyone insists. Dean makes them swear there will be pie. 

They come through, his people, and there’s a pie of each of Dean’s favorites. Judging by their smirks, they planned it that way. 

Dinner is loud and chaotic and delicious if Dean’s to believe everyone. He can’t take all the credit, considering Charlie showed up with coffee and a positive attitude first thing to help and even his cute boyfriend lent a hand, becoming Dean’s errand boy for anything he forgot. Cas ran to the store at least three times before noon. 

On his last run, he brings back a pie from Fable—the smell of apple pecan making Dean a little hard—and a bag of appetizers with love from Baz and Meg. From there, Cas keeps Dean’s glass full and spends the rest of the time sketching at the counter until the rest of their guests arrive. 

Everyone settles in the living room and Cas is deep in conversation with Sarah and Gabe’s date, Kali, a local gallery owner. They met when Gabe attended a show at her place and they’ve been dating for a few weeks now. Dean thinks she’s way outta Gabe’s league, but he’s on his best behavior around her so it works in everyone’s favor. 

Dean’s prepping their Irish Coffee when Sam comes over to help, quiet while he cuts the pies. 

_ The hell does his little brother want?  _

“Spill, dude,” Dean instructs. If Sam’s looking for privacy, he better speak up before someone else comes over to help them. 

Sam clears this throat. “Have you heard from dad lately?”

An easy enough question. Except it’s not. Because neither of them make it a habit to be in contact with John Winchester. 

But this morning, Dean woke up to a text from his dad and he’s been trying like hell not to think about it all day. Of course his little brother is in here fucking that up. 

_ That means Dad texted Sam too. _

“What did yours say?” he asks with a sigh. 

“Crap,” Sam mutters. He leans against the counter next to Dean. 

“Shoulda just deleted it. Can’t be nothin’ good.”

“Did you delete yours without reading it?” 

**> >We need to talk. Call me Dean.**

Dean doesn’t answer. 

“That’s what I thought,” Sam says. “He asked me about school, said Happy Thanksgiving, that kinda shit.” 

_ Huh. Well, damn, I'm fine dad, thanks so much for fuckin’ asking.  _

“Did you reply?” 

Sam’s quiet. Dean closes his eyes. 

“Not a good idea, man.” 

“It was just a few texts, Dean.” 

Dean shakes his head and tries to breathe. He reminds himself again that it’s not Sam’s fault he doesn’t know the depths of selfishness that exist within their dad, that the stark difference in their texts alone tells Dean everything he needs to know. 

It’s not Sam’s problem, now, he supposes. If Sam can find a middle ground with their dad, then great. Good for him. Sam’s the son John’s always wanted anyway, so it makes sense. The lawyer with the beautiful woman on his arm. Dean’s the fucked up broken one, or at least that’s what his dad led him to believe before he left Kansas for good.

Dean doesn’t want John to get his hooks in Sam, either way. The temptation to tell him everything hangs heavy around Dean’s neck, the urge to break apart whatever this is or what it could become almost overwhelming. 

He’s pretty sure Sam would believe him. 

Cas slipping an arm around his waist brings Dean back to reality. He presses a kiss to the underside of Dean’s jaw. “How’s dessert coming? Can I help with anything?” 

Sam’s already taking plates of pie back to the rest of the group. Cas takes the coffee pot out of Dean’s shaking hand and places it on the counter before he puts Dean’s hands around the back of his head, tipping their foreheads together. 

Dean digs his fingers into Cas’ hair and the feeling grounds him.

“You okay?” Cas asks gently. 

“Remember that text I got this morning? Sam got one too,” his throat is thick and it’s painful to utter his words. “He responded.” 

Cas kisses him, causing his eyes to fall shut and push a tear down his face. Soothing kisses scatter over his cheeks and nose and finally to his mouth, Cas’ lips soft and warm. 

“Remember what your baby Antoni said? About serving coffee?” 

Dean huffs a wet laugh. “It tells our guests it's time to go.” 

Cas is smiling when Dean opens his eyes, his smile warming Dean straight to his heart. “We can talk when everyone leaves,” he raises an eyebrow. “Or I can help distract you.” 

Dean’s face splits into a grin. “You know I love your idea of a distraction.” 

Cas kisses him while nodding, making Dean laugh again before they pull apart. “Come on honeybee, let’s get these revelers out of here.” 

He doesn’t have time to talk to Sam again before everyone leaves, instead just shaking his hand and pulling him in for a quick hug and a reminder to text him when they get home. 

He twirls Charlie around when she goes to hug him, wrapping a hand around her head and kissing it before he lets her go. Dean grabs her coat and holds it open for her to shrug into. 

“So you’re gonna pick me up around three?” 

Dean eyes Cas hugging Gilda goodbye and thinks ahead to a morning in bed. “Let’s make it four so I can uh, sleep in.” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

Charlie shakes her head. “Please don’t pick me up smelling like sex, I beg you.” 

“Same goes for you, little miss, ‘I need this Princess Leia costume for Halloween’.” 

She shoves at him but smirks. “That costume is still paying off.” 

“Maybe I just got an idea for next year’s Halloween,” he replies, thinking of Cas in a gold bikini. Now there’s a wet dream come true. 

“I can already hear your spank bank getting refilled.” She leans up to kiss him on the cheek. “See you tomorrow, handmaiden. Stay hydrated!” 

Cas gives him a weird look when he closes the door behind them. 

“I just told her about all the sex we were gonna have before I meet her tomorrow for shopping,” Dean assures him. “She’s looking out for our well being.”

“How kind of her,” Cas says dryly. Dean smirks.

They go back to clean but Kali waves them off, Gabe already elbow deep in a sink full of pots and pans, the dishwasher already running next to him. Kali has most of the food they didn’t give away wrapped up. 

Dean thanks them both and slips upstairs but not before he sees Cas hug Gabe and exchange a few words. Their room is cool, the heaters turned low since they spent the day downstairs. Dean turns it up and stretches before he shrugs out of his flannel, tossing it to the hamper, his socks and pants following. 

He’s brushing his teeth when Cas joins him, already stripped down to his black briefs, the curve of his ass a distraction that Dean watches from the corner of his eye. Cas bends over the bathtub, pushing the stopper in and turning on the water. He drops a bath bomb in and lavender fills the room, Dean’s dick filling at the smell. 

_ Well, that’s something to remember so he doesn’t pop a boner in an inappropriate place.  _

He spits his toothpaste into the sink and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, all his attention on Cas now. 

Cas says nothing when he tugs Dean’s boxer briefs down, kicking them towards the hamper when Dean steps out of them. He cups Dean’s semi-hard cock and presses his thumb into the slit. Dean sucks in a breath. 

“Come on, officer, let’s get you relaxed,” he says as he guides Dean into the hot water. He steps in behind Dean and they sink down together, having learned right after Dean moved in that this is the easiest way to ease themselves in otherwise they just can’t seem to fit right, not that Dean minds when Cas just ends up between his legs so they can rut together. Maybe that would help get his mind off things. 

He sighs as the heat soaks into his muscles. Cas’ holds one of his hands between his two, digging his thumb into Dean’s palm and massaging each finger. The tension leaks out of his shoulders. 

“What has you worried, Dean?” Cas asks into the silence, the only sounds so far of dripping and moving water. Cas’ voice threads its way through the waves. 

“Nothing good can come from my dad reaching out,” Dean replies with a sigh. “Trust me.” 

“Does Sam know that?” 

“Probably not.” Dean squeezes his eyes shut. 

_ Why the fuck is this so hard to talk about? _

He’d be pissed at himself for being so weak about this but fuck, he wears his armor different these days and maybe he’s let his guard drop when it comes to John Winchester. 

Cas switches hands. “Maybe you should talk to him.” 

And tell him what?  _ Hey Sammy, Dad’s a homophobe and called me out about it, blamed me for not being straight enough to keep a decent woman like Lisa, awesome right! _

Yeah fuckin’ right. 

“Maybe,” he answers instead. 

Cas nudges him to lean forward and his big hands stroke down Dean’s back, long swipes of water, the oils from the bath bomb soaking into his skin. It helps him not think about his fuckin’ dad, at least. 

He’s slowly turning into a puddle when Cas washes his hair, his long fingers massaging and pulling at Dean’s strands. He covers Dean’s eyes when he pours water over his head and he laughs when Dean spits a stream of it back at him. 

The water is cooling when Cas pulls Dean into his arms, both of them clean. Dean stares at the way the light moves in the room, bouncing off the colored walls. Mixed with the sound of the moving water, Dean feels himself drifting off. 

Cas kissing the shell of his ear brings him back, the water noisy when he slides back up. Strong hands cover his chest and Cas kisses his neck. “Is it time for that distraction, officer?” he murmurs into Dean’s ear. 

Dean rolls his head back against Cas’ shoulder. “Yes, please.” 

Cas gets them out of the bath quick after that, laughing when Dean wraps his hair in a towel but leaves the rest of himself naked. He lies on his stomach and grins when Cas climbs on top of him, his weight pleasant. Dean laughs when Cas bites into his shoulder, sucking, his tongue running over the spot when he stops. He straddles Dean and sinks his hands into the muscles of Dean’s shoulders, kneading and squeezing out the knots. 

He leans down to whisper in Dean’s ear, “Thank you for today. All your planning and cooking, I appreciate you so much,” Cas thanks him further by sucking the tip of Dean’s ear into his mouth, his teeth running along the edge. “I love you so much, Dean,” he says, his breath hot. 

No one’s ever loved Dean as much as Cas does and when Cas tells him, Dean can feel every word making him better, closing holes left behind from years of neglect that turned into hate, things Dean worked hard not to think about, things brought to the surface by a few fucking text messages. 

He groans when Cas’ hands push at him to roll over; he doesn’t think he’s ready to look at Cas just yet. Dean goes anyway but keeps his eyes shut tight, slinging an arm over his eyes for good measure. 

Cas brushes his hands over Dean’s chest before he moves down, licking and biting at his pecs and nipples. He kisses his favorite freckles and it makes Dean open his eyes and laugh, but it comes out breathy and strangled. Cas glances up at him, his eyes playful while he kisses Dean’s stomach. 

He takes Dean apart an inch at a time, putting him back together so slow that Dean forgets to think about anything for the rest of the night. Cas keeps Dean distracted until he has to pick up Charlie, making him a half hour late thanks to one last blow job in the shower. 

Dean doesn’t think he’ll be able to come for the rest of the year. 

He makes it up to Charlie with salted caramel cupcakes—best of both worlds—and vanilla lattes after he picks her up. Her scolding is light and she’s all smiles when they sit down to enjoy their snack before hitting the shops. 

“So, what’s left on your list?” Charlie asks between sips. They were the only two that wanted to catch the tail end of Black Friday, Dean only needing a few more presents. Charlie needed something for Sam so here they were. Cas thought about going until he noticed the threat of rain, deciding to stay in and work on the second draft of their book. It’d gotten sent back from the publishers a week before Thanksgiving and the brothers wanted to finish it before the New Year. 

“I need to get something for Sam and Sarah’s new place,” Dean starts with. 

Charlie nods in agreement. “Good idea, maybe we can do a joint gift.” 

That’s not a bad idea. 

“Let’s go to Cost Plus, they have cool house stuff and good sales.” 

Dean shrugs, not having a preference. “Sounds good. Only other place is Mendel’s, there’s a brush set Cas is putting off buying. Thought that’d be a nice surprise.” 

Charlie stops sipping her coffee. “Oh! Perfect! You can drop me off at Gilda’s shop,” she smiles wide at him. 

“Sure, Red, you guys have plans?” Done eating, Dean gathers their trash and holds out his arm for Charlie to hold. She pulls on a beanie before she takes it. 

“No plans, just dinner once we were done.” 

There’s a light mist in the air when they walk out and Dean needs his windshield wipers when they drive across town to Cost Plus. Dean loves their big parking lot. And their buy one get one free sale. 

They walk out with a few glass terrariums and things to decorate them with like rock and colored sand. Cas can fill them with succulents and they’ll fix Sam’s complaint about not having any plants after he saw their rooftop patio. His condos balcony is too small for much more but at least this can get them started on the outdoor space. They’ll be given with a promise from Dean to come over and help with the rest. 

He also buys Cas a new French press, one made of olive wood with double glass. His hipster heart is gonna be thrilled. 

They head back to the Mission to hit their favorite comic book shop. Charlie ordered Sam’s present from them, a special edition book with art from Fortnight, their current obsession. Dean sees a display with Cas’ first book with a big sign displaying art from the next installment, the one his boyfriend is sweating over at the moment. He recognizes the panels, Cas and Gabe worked on them for a week straight, working too late into the night every night. Dean had to peel them both off their drawing tables with coffee and forced naps. 

Their effort was worth it, the art fucking fantastic on display. Dean buys two copies. He always buys at least one when he sees it. It’s stupid and he gives a lot of them away but not before he makes Cas and sometimes Gabe sign them, hoping it cheers up whoever ends up with the book. 

He snaps a picture and sends it to Cas, hoping it encourages him. 

On the way to Mendel’s, Charlie brings up his brother.

“I talked to Sam this morning,” she states, out there in a way only Charlie can accomplish. “He’s worried you’re mad at him.” She looks at him. “Are you? Mad at him?” 

Dean scowls. “No, I’m not  _ mad _ at Sam. Hasn’t even been twenty-four hours,” he mumbles. “I’m not happy he answered our dad but, as he keeps reminding me, he’s grown.” Dean pulls a hand down his face while they wait at a red light. “It’s his choice if he wants to open that door.”

“Why don’t you?” 

“You know why,” he answers quietly. 

Charlie’s the only person he ever told about the night he left Lawrence. 

She sighs. The rain beats down on the roof of the Impala. 

“He’d want to know about that.”

Charlie’s right. Cas is right. Dean doesn’t think he’s ready for that conversation. He doesn’t even know how he’d even approach it. 

The rest of their ride is quiet.

Their run to Mendel’s is a success, Dean getting the brushes Cas has been lusting over and Charlie getting him a small set of crazy paints, some swirling with pearl and others thick with glitter. They’ll be all over Dean’s walls so he helps Charlie pick out the colors he knows Cas will want to use. 

He visits with Gilda and buys a few replacement bottles of lube, which she packages happily. He kisses them both goodbye, Charlie reminding him to think about what she said (like he won’t be obsessing over it from here on out) and it’s really raining by the time he’s back in the car. His cat-like boyfriend was right to stay home, he’d be miserable. 

Dean doesn’t mind it, happy to walk home in the rain after stashing the Impala and Sam’s presents in the garage. He’s lulled in by the smell of tomato sauce so he picks up a pizza for them, covering half with pineapple for Cas. 

He’s juggling both the pizza and the Cost Plus bags and thank fuck Cas sees him through the window and is there to open the door. 

“You look like a drowned puppy,” he states.

Water drips off Dean’s nose. He licks his lips. “Thank you?” He holds up the pizza. “Time to eat.” 

He knows Cas hasn’t stopped since he left and he’s right because Cas’ face turns guilty. 

“Get your pain in the ass brother, he needs to eat too,” Dean calls over his shoulder as he leaves Cas behind. Cas can follow the trail of water he’s leaving. 

Gabriel’s grousing about the water by the time Dean makes it back downstairs, barefoot and in grey sweats and a black t-shirt. Cas is mopping the floor dry and Gabriel’s eating so he must not be that put out. 

Dean takes the mop and pushes Cas towards the pizza. He can’t get over how fucking good everything is, even as he listens to Cas and Gabe bicker over water or the rain or some fucking thing and he realizes what he’s feeling is happiness. 

It’s bleeding through his anxiety about his dad, which to Dean is more familiar than anything else he’s felt throughout his life.  

Dean’s never felt anything stronger until this moment. Cas did that for him. Dean feels renewed about talking to Sam because regardless of Sam’s reaction, Cas will be there waiting for him and wherever he is will always be home.


	28. Chapter 28

The rain starts three days before Christmas. The cute weather lady with the black hair and big teeth declares it’s the biggest storm cell they’ve seen all year and that everyone should plan to hunker down. 

Dean works his last shift of the year, fucking glad he asked for the time off months ago, knowing lots of people whose requests were recalled just this week. He checked with his boss to see if they needed him but didn’t hesitate to haul ass outta there when told no. 

One last grocery run and he dumps the bags off before tucking in his Baby, hauling ass back home and peeling out of his soaked uniform before he even takes a step upstairs. 

If Gabe is surprised to see him standing in his underwear unpacking groceries, he doesn’t show it. 

Footsteps stomp above them. 

“What’s wrong with Cassie, why are you avoiding my dear brother and trying to hide in the kitchen?” 

_ Dick. _

“I’m not  _ hiding, _ ” he retorts. “I’m putting the food away and then bringing him something hot. He probably forgot to turn up the heater again,” Dean grouses. Cas gets caught up in working in his studio and then realizes he’s freezing when his skin is already cool to the touch. 

Drives Dean nuts. 

He also knows Cas got a text about Christmas Eve he isn’t happy about. They planned to do another gallery bar hop but this one extra fancy, both of them renting tuxes that will now go unused, thanks to the storm canceling the party. Fuck, how he wanted to see Cas in a tux. Cas is disappointed too. His emojis have been unhappy all day. 

Dean gets dressed and finds Cas outside checking on his bees and securing their hive against the impending storm. He spent the day making sure the colony returned before closing the hive for the night and now he’s securing the cover of the hive with the latches Dean made. He’s so cute in sweats that are clearly Dean’s by the way they pool at his feet. Cas hums for his bees, something soft under his breath and Dean watches when his shirt slips from his shoulder and he pulls the beanie he’s wearing down tighter. 

_ Cute. The cutest.  _

Cas smiles when he turns to find Dean watching him. His sleeves dangle over his hands and he looks small in Dean’s clothes when he burrows himself into where Dean’s waiting to hug him. He’s all muscle and hard lines and definitely not small when he presses against Dean to steal his warmth. 

They spend the night wrapped together in their nest of blankets, Dean trying like hell with his mouth to make up for Cas’ disappointment about their cancelled plans. 

Gabe is spending the holiday in Los Angeles (Dean still has no idea what the hell he does down there) and it’s cold and misty when they drive him to the airport, Cas grumbling about it until Dean pulls out a thermos of coffee and drops it in his lap. At least he shares with Dean while he drives and by the time they’re back home, it’s pouring rain again, the weather girl’s predictions coming true. 

They spend a lazy afternoon exchanging gifts. Cas is thrilled with the brush set and he insists on making them a fresh pot of Pride blend from Weavers with his new French press. Dean’s sitting cross legged on the couch, already deep into the photography book Cas bought him when Cas comes to press a mug into his hands. They happily share the pot of coffee and a few bowls of their favorite weed, an awesome blend called SFV that Cas found.

They’re bundled and happy together on the couch when Cas leans into him. “Merry Christmas, Dean,” Cas says before pressing his lips to Dean’s. 

“Merry Christmas,” Dean pushes the hair off his forehead. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take you dancing tonight, honey.” 

Cas looks thoughtful. “Why can’t you?” 

“Too wet for you, kitty,” Dean teases. He’s surprised when Cas pulls him off the couch by his hands, pulling them around his waist. Dean clasps his hands behind Cas’ back, dragging him close so he can run his lips along Cas’ jaw. 

“Dance with me, honeybee,” Cas is breathless because Dean’s mouth made it to the curve of his neck. He smiles against Cas’ skin and nods. 

“Go put on some music, let me lock up,” Dean replies with a squeeze to that ass he loves so much. Cas pinches his hip and goes, already pulling his shirt off. A low beat starts while Dean turns off the lights.

He finds Cas waiting for him in the dark, shoulders broad and strong in the shadow of their room. A flash of white lightning illuminates Cas, his hair blue and pulsing under the electricity. A low roll of thunder breaks above them and it rumbles in Dean’s chest. 

The rain drums steady against the windows and roof, the surrounding air almost humid. Cas watches him, licks his lips when Dean tugs his shirt off before standing in front of him. Dean holds out his hand and Cas takes it, smiling when the beat changes to something more sultry—Zedd, if Dean’s memory serves. Cas loves his stuff and listens enough that Dean can recognize his music now. 

**_So pull me closer, why don’t you pull me close. Why don’t you come on over, I can’t just let you go._ **

Cas laughs when Dean spins him by the hand, Cas twirling out and back into Dean’s arms before Dean dips him, both of them giggling into each other’s mouths when Dean pulls Cas close.

**_Baby, why don’t you just meet me in the middle._ **

Cas has a little crush on Maren Morris and Dean reminds him, his whispers making Cas shiver in his arms. Dean loves when his bisexuality rubs off on Cas. He turns Cas around so he can rub against his ass, his arms tight around Cas’ middle. 

**_I’m losing my mind just a little._ **

Dean kisses Cas’ shoulders, his mouth working up and down Cas’ neck, Cas grinding back into him. He grips Cas’ hips and holds them tight, coaxing their hips into a dirty roll, nothing short of a dry hump, Cas’ head falling back on Dean’s shoulder.

**_So pull me closer, why don’t you pull me close. Why don’t you come on over, I can’t just let you go._ **

Dean’s high goes into overdrive with Cas in his arms, his ass wiggling against Dean’s dick and he feels heavy when he grips Cas’ shoulders to turn him around in his arms so he can kiss him properly. Cas giggles into his mouth and Dean thinks he might be lost forever. 

**_Lookin at you, I can’t lie, just pouring out admission, regardless of my objection, and it’s not about my pride, I need you on my skin just, come over pull me in._ **

Their kisses turn hotter, each slide of their tongues making them both push harder into the other. Cas’ thick cock digs into the crease of Dean’s thigh and he bites down on Cas’ shoulder, making him shudder and moan Dean’s name under his breath. 

Dean groans into his skin when the song changes again, melting into something slow. The haunting melody covers them like a blanket, the song building and building. Cas’ urgency grows with the bass line, his kisses becoming more needy. His hands are tangled in Dean’s hair and each tug stokes the low burn in Dean’s belly. 

He dips his knees and uses his leverage to lift Cas, Cas’ legs coming around Dean’s waist without missing a beat. 

Dean takes the few steps to their bed, never taking his mouth off Cas’ as he kneels them into the sheets. Cas sighs when his back touches the mattress but he doesn’t let go of Dean until Dean pulls back, smoothing his hands down the sides Cas’ firm body, Cas twisting under his touch, his breath catching when Dean slides his sweats down with one sweep of his hands. 

Cas’ cock is beautiful, flushed a gorgeous shade of amaranth against the branch of cherry blossoms across Cas’ stomach. Dean smiles to himself. 

“What,” Cas asks, touching the corner of Deans’ upturned mouth. 

“Just so in love with you, Cas,” Dean turns his head to pull Cas’ finger into his mouth. He sucks on it and Cas pushes down on his tongue before he lets go. 

Cas’ smile is soft, sacred and Dean’s proud to have put it there. His sweet, perfect Cas. 

Dean can’t stop kissing him, doesn’t even try, lingers in his favorite places; the dip of Cas’ belly button and the curve of his thighs. Cas begs for his mouth but Dean continues to take his time, kissing Cas all the way down to his toes and back up. He’d skipped Cas’ cock on his journey down Cas’ body, receiving a disgruntled, “what the fuck,” from his boyfriend that made them both laugh.

Cas isn’t laughing when Dean sucks a bruise into the soft skin of his inner thigh. Dean certainly isn’t laughing when he finds the small plug buried in Cas’ ass. 

Cas is staring down at Dean between his legs, his navy eyes full of heat. Dean licks his lips and stares back. “This for me, babe?” Dean thumbs at the plug and Cas keens. “Sneaky boy,” he whispers, twisting it so it slides against Cas’ slick rim. Cas’ legs shake when he spreads them wider for Dean. 

“Please,” he begs.

“Please, what?” 

The smoke makes them lose their inhibition, what little of it that might remain between them. 

“Please, Dean, suck me,” Cas moans and Dean takes him, lifting Cas by the hips so he can settle in Dean’s lap. He curls down to suck the head of Cas’ cock into his mouth, Cas’ hand grabbing him by the hair when he cries out. Dean’s spit drips down as he drags his mouth up and down Cas’ shaft, swallowing around him and working him deeper into his throat. 

He can feel the flat end of the plug pressing against his cock and he pushes up into it, making Cas cry out. Dean rolls his hips so he can hear it again. He pulls his mouth off Cas’ cock, ignoring the delicious sound of protest Cas makes in his throat. 

“Shh,” Dean hums, twisting the plug in Cas’ ass and pulling it out slow, licking his lips when Cas’ stretched hole flutters shut. Dean presses a chaste kiss there before he pulls back to dig under their pillows for their lube, almost empty now. Dean’s glad he stocked up on the important storm supplies. 

His fingers are wet when they press into Cas, and Cas grinds down onto them. Watching Cas’ body swallow Dean’s fingers is goddamn life changing and he tugs Cas’ cock absentmindedly, his gaze transfixed on Cas fucking himself on three of Dean’s fingers.

_ Wish I had my camera.  _

The urge passes when Cas’ cock throbs, a spurt of pre-come streaking across his belly. Dean leans down to lick it, Cas groaning when Dean’s tongue drags across his stomach. He lets him writhe on his fingers a bit longer before Dean is pulling them free and wiping his hand clean on their sheets, too intent on sinking into Cas’ heat to worry about anything else. 

The rain sounds like waves of water against the glass when Dean slides into Cas, his gorgeous moans mixing with Dean’s, the sound of their pleasure overpowering the storm. 

Cas is tight around Dean’s cock, his heat engulfing Dean and setting fire to the embers on a constant slow burn since he met Cas. “Oh babe, you’re so tight,” Dean moans. “Am I makin’ you feel good?” he asks, needing to hear Cas. 

“Oh, Dean, feels like—”  Cas huffs into Dean’s shoulder. “Your cock, it’s so thick, I can feel every inch,” he pants, breathy still. “I love it, love y-you,” he stutters when Dean tilts his hips up, his cock curving up to brush inside him and against the little bundle of nerves that makes Cas writhe and shake in Dean’s arms. He rolls his hips over and over until Cas is a flushed mess under him and only when Cas cries out and spills between them does Dean slow, his own hips stuttering when he follows, unable to resist the heat tightening around his cock when Cas comes. 

“You’re beautiful, so beautiful,” Dean slurs into Cas’ skin, Cas a mix of loose limbs and small sighs. “Love you Cas, I love you so much,” Dean mouths at Cas cheek and drags their lips together, kissing Cas until his breathing returns to normal, Dean’s soft cock slipping from Cas when Dean lays him back down into their bed. 

Cas smiles up at him and Dean can honestly say he’s never made love before but he’s fucking so happy that it’s Cas he gets to do it with, long as Cas is willing. He falls asleep with his face buried in the curve of Cas’ neck wondering how in the hell he got so lucky.

When Dean opens his eyes the next morning—Christmas morning—it’s like the entire world is holding its breath. He almost doesn't want to move, the feeling is so palpable. 

A rustle of pages next to him has him turning his head towards Cas, sitting up in bed and reading, big blue eyes blinking owlishly at his book. He's shirtless and has one hand tangled in Dean's hair as he reads. 

Cas’ face breaks into a grin when he notices Dean watching him. “Fuck, you’re adorable when you’re ruffled.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Dean moans into his pillow. “What time is it?”

It's still raining and today they have to go out in it for Christmas brunch. His plan is to stay in bed until the last possible minute, Sam set to arrive at ten. 

“Ten till,” Cas answers. 

Dean stills. No. No way he let Dean sleep in until— 

Their door buzzes. 

“Dean, you said Sam was arriving at eleven?” 

The door buzzes again. 

Dean groans and rolls out of bed, naked and fuck—he needs a fucking shower. “Ten,” he hisses. “We're meeting Charlie at eleven. Sam wants to do presents first.”

Dean's tripping between the dresser and the shower and Cas (finally) takes pity (this is his fault for letting Dean sleep in) and pushes Dean into the bathroom. 

Third buzz and Dean can imagine his brother huffing out on the sidewalk. 

“I mixed up the times, you shower. I'll let them in and get coffee going, swap out when they're settled,” He kisses Dean with confidence and it's really hot, all this taking charge. “Dean, focus.”

“I’m here.”

“I'm sorry,” his eyes are serious. 

Dean softens. “Not a big deal, Sam's definitely annoyed down there but you can win him over with coffee,” he kisses Cas soft, wincing at the fourth ring of the buzzer. 

Dean's phone begins to vibrate on the nightstand. 

Cas is out the door and Dean can hear him clattering down the stairs before he's in the shower. Doesn't take long for Cas to return and by then, Dean's dressed and ready for their day, red checked flannel over tight black jeans, a black henley underneath. 

Cas’ eyes light up when he sees Dean and he’s smiling when he pulls a big, square box from behind the couch. It’s wrapped in plain brown paper, a bow that matches Dean’s flannel wrapped around it. 

Cas blushes. “Lovely coincidence,” he says. “Merry Christmas, Dean.” 

He looks at Cas, confused. They exchanged gifts last night, so he’s not sure what this one is for. 

“I know, I just—when I saw it, I knew it was meant for you,” Cas’ eyes drop to the floor, shy now. “It’s a thank you, for making this the best year of my life.” 

Dean takes the box and sets it on their bed before he has Cas in his arms. “Cas, you didn’t have to—”

Cas cuts him off with a kiss. “I wanted to, please accept it.” 

Dean opens the box, excited now because hell yeah, one more present but his hands freeze when he pushes open the tissue to reveal a black, leather racer jacket—probably the nicest piece of clothing Dean’s ever seen, let alone owned. It’s way too fucking much and Dean knows it cost a fortune, he can tell just by looking at it. 

“Don’t say a word until you put it on,” Cas interrupts before Dean has a chance to open his mouth. 

Dean clenches his jaw but complies, pulling the jacket from the gift box. He can’t help but groan when his fingers close around the leather, soft like butter and fuck, the real leather smells amazing. He pulls it close to his nose and inhales before he can stop himself. 

Cas is all smiles when he takes the jacket and holds it open for Dean. 

It fits like a fucking glove. 

_ Had a feeling it would.  _

Cas’ breath catches and even Dean has to say, he looks fuckin’ awesome. The leather is distressed, the creases lighter but worn, broken in and the whole thing sits perfectly on his shoulders. 

“You look incredible, better than I imagined,” Cas breathes into his ear. “Do you like it?” 

Dean smoothes the jacket over his chest. “I fuckin’ love it, Cas,” he admits. “It’s a lot, though.” 

“Worth every penny,” Cas tells him, his arms wrapping around Dean’s waist to stare with him in the mirror. “Will you wear it today? It’s treated for the weather.”

_ Oh right. Brunch.  _

_ Shit. Sam. _

“Sam and Sarah are enjoying their coffee and some pie in the kitchen. I apologized for our tardiness.” 

Dean takes Cas in his arms again and Cas buries his nose into the soft leather, humming. 

“Thank you,” Dean tips Cas’ face out of his (fuck yes) new jacket so he can kiss him. “For everything.” He hopes Cas can feel how much those words means to him. The way he kisses Dean has him thinking Cas understands. 

It must be Christmas because Sam doesn’t give Dean any shit when they come out a few (ok, fifteen) minutes later and Dean’s extra thankful when he doesn’t seem to notice Dean’s swollen lips and Cas’ dazed look. 

The gifts he bought with Charlie are at her house, they’ll exchange them during brunch. Sam hinted around all of them going in on a gift for Dean and Cas so Dean’s excited about that. Sam won’t stop grinning after he opens the gift from them—a collection of Superman graphic novels, all signed by Cas’ inker friends. It was Cas’ idea when he was at his last con and he came home so excited with everything he picked up. 

He also picked out their gift for Sarah, a six week French cooking course, taught by none other than Balthazar, which Dean finds hilarious. Cas is laughing too when he passes Dean an envelope with his own enrollment. 

He holds up his hands. “Balthazar insisted.”

“It’ll be fun, Dean, we can bond.” Sarah’s brown eyes twinkle. 

“And we can eat,” Sam chimes in, an arm around Cas who’s nodding. 

_ Somehow, it always comes down to Dean feeding Cas and Sam.  _

He’s really fucking excited to learn how to cook in French. Or whatever. 

Sam looks fucking  _ jealous _ when Dean pulls on his new jacket and it makes it that much better. Cas won’t stop touching his arms and back either so basically, this jacket is made of win in Dean’s book. 

It’s still fucking raining but Dean grins when Cas opens his giant golf umbrella made up of the colors of the pride flag. It’s the only thing that gets Cas outside in the rain. Dean has a collection of pictures of Cas playing in the rain after Dean gave it to him. His favorite shot is framed on his desk—Cas stomping into a puddle, the water splashing around his calves. He has this wide smile and creases around his eyes and fuck—he’s gorgeous in it. 

Cas’ smile is identical as they huddle together under the umbrella to make their way to Charlie’s, his hand going under Dean’s jacket to slip inside his back pocket. He keeps leaning in to kiss Dean’s jaw and each nuzzle of his nose has Dean huffing out small laughs. 

“Maybe we should have stayed home,” Dean mutters under his breath, tilting the umbrella down to block them from Sam and Sarah. They’re following behind the couple, Sam talking about the project he’s working on over his break but Dean’s only slightly listening, distracted by Cas’ cute mouth.

Dean’s attention jerks back to his brother when Sam’s tone changes and it shoots a chill down Dean’s spine before he can even comprehend what Sam said. 

“Dad?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Middle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M3mJkSqZbX4) \- Zedd ft Maren Morris  
> [The Sound of Walking Away](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nW--BbY6Z5E) \- Illenium, Kerli
> 
> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
> 


	29. Chapter 29

Time stands still. That’s what it seems like to Dean anyway because he’s sure it’s impossible for their dad to be in California, let alone in San Francisco.

Standing under the entryway of Dean’s old apartment to keep dry from the rain.

_ What the fuck. No. No, no, no. _

His arm falls from around Cas’ shoulders and his hand tightens around the umbrella handle. 

Dean never thought he’d see John Winchester again.

John’s hugging Sam and then Sam is introducing him to Sarah and Dean’s standing there quietly with Cas, not fucking sure what the hell is going on.

He blinks and he’s back there—“ _ That’s right, run away. Good thing Sam’s already making something of his life, unlike you. At least I don’t have to see his face this time after you leave him again.”  _

The night Dean left Lawrence. 

He never should have stopped by John’s. Bobby’d even told him not to but part of Dean was still loyal. It was his dad, for christ’s sake. Dean had to at least try—even if he hadn’t spoken to John since his breakup with Lisa. John was the one pushing Dean to get married and Dean hates himself for buying into John’s affection. It almost made up for his dying relationship. Until it couldn’t because Dean couldn’t stay with Lisa after what she did. 

And then John stopped calling and got scarce while Dean ripped his life from Lisa’s, disappearing all together at some point. He’d written John off, Dean had to and then he drove by his dad’s one last time on the way outta town and the lights were on inside. 

Dean should have kept driving.

If Dean had kept driving, maybe he wouldn’t be standing on the sidewalk in San Francisco being treated like a total stranger by his own fucking father. 

“What are you doing here?” he blurts out, not sorry to ruin the reunion unfolding in front of him. He doesn’t know how many years it’s been since his dad even  _ saw  _ Sam.

His dad’s face falls and he finally seems to notice Dean. “You didn’t call me. I told you we needed to talk,” John’s voice is flat and it makes Dean’s stomach clench. 

“So your answer is to drive two thousand miles?” Dean shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s fucking ludicrous, even for you. What are you really doing here?”

The door behind John bangs open and Charlie and Gilda tumble out laughing, both freezing when they see the sight in front of them. 

“Dean?” Charlie takes two steps towards him, reaching for Dean’s arm. “What’s going on? Who the hell is this?” 

“It’s my fucking Dad,” he grits out, an incredulous laugh choking him. “And I have no idea what the fuck is going on.” 

Sam’s still standing there processing Dean’s reaction to John.

“This funny to you?” John growls, instantly posturing, expectant. He rolls his shoulders in the ratty brown leather jacket he’s never without. Dean can smell the booze coming from his dad’s pores even from where he stands. John looks like shit warmed over twice and it’s embarrassing. 

Dean rolls his eyes, already sick of his dad’s shit. Three minutes, must be some kinda record.

“No,” Dean bites back the term of respect his dad is waiting to hear. “It’s the furthest fucking  _ thing  _ from funny right now. Answer my question.” 

John’s jaw bunches, not expecting this reaction from his eldest son. Dean doesn’t know what he expected and he doesn’t fucking care.

“This is a conversation for family.” John’s eyes flick to the umbrella and for the first time, to Cas standing under it with Dean. His perfect Cas, in his tight jeans and white henley, a cobalt blue long sleeve on top. It brings out his eyes, lined with kohl eyeliner, something Cas started doing more often after Halloween (much to Dean’s delight and excited libido). He’s wearing big dumb combat boots and he’s ethereal standing in the rain. John’s lip curls and he looks back at Dean. “You some kind of fag now?”

Cas pulls his hand from Dean’s back pocket.

Dean sees crimson and all he wants to do is rip John’s fucking throat out but god dammit, Sam is holding him back and swearing at John simultaneously, Sarah shouting into the rain at them both, Charlie and Gilda both yelling at John’s disgusting remark. And in the middle of the fucking Castro of all places. 

_ “How’d I end up with one son who works his tail off to make his old man proud, and then you? Couldn’t cut it in the army, can’t satisfy a damn decent woman like Lisa. Always wondered when she’d realize she was too good for you. Thank God that baby was a scare, you’d be a shit father. Couldn’t even take care of Sammy when I had to work.”  _

Dean steps in between his real family, all of them falling silent, and he punches John Winchester right in the face. 

_ “You’d make your mother sick, with your whatever you call it. Liking guys and girls, like that’s real. Can’t believe my son likes to take it up the ass. I’m glad she’s dead, so she doesn’t have to see what you’ve turned our family into.” _

Dean punched his dad in the face that night, too. And then he drove for twelve hours straight and then drank for twelve hours straight in the middle of a fucking forest, somewhere outside Denver. Dean stayed for a week, drunk every night. Someone different in his bed every night too. 

If Dean’s going on a bender, he’s doing it right. 

But he’s not that fucking guy anymore and he hasn’t been, doesn’t need to be, because Cas made him want to be a better man. And now John’s showed his fucking face in  _ Dean’s  _ city? In their home? 

His home. With Cas. 

_ Cas. _

The urge to fuck his dad up disappears the moment Dean realizes Cas is gone. Like,  _ gone, _ gone. Dean’s training kicks in and he scans the street, looking for any flashes of blue but the street is so empty, it’s easy to see he isn’t there. 

How the fuck did everything get turned upside down so fucking fast?

Dean turns on John. Rain runs down John’s forehead, his head tilted up to the sky while he pinches his nose that’s dripping blood. 

Aside from a slight twinge of pain in his knuckles, Dean feels nothing when he looks at John. 

“You really think you’re hot shit, don’t you Dean?” 

Dean flinches when his dad says his name. He hates himself for it. 

“I don’t know how you found me, but you aren’t welcome here,” Dean’s voice is tight. “You told me if I was gonna leave, to go far and stay gone. I followed your last order when I left Lawrence.” 

John’s shoulders heave and he glares at Dean. 

_ “You wanna go, good—great. Go far, Dean. Don’t need you rubbing your lifestyle in anyone’s face. Is that why Lisa dumped you? Bet it is. Can’t blame her for wanting to marry a real man, you know? You wanna go? Stay gone. I don’t wanna know you.”  _

Dean knew his dad was a lot of things but he never knew how much John hated him until that moment. Dean wondered for a long time if it began before or after his mom’s death. 

Not that it ever mattered. 

Dean stands to his full height and looks down at what his dad’s become since Dean left. Dean would feel sorry for him if he thought John deserved it. “You’re a mess, why don’t you just get outta here.” 

He can’t bare to look at his little brother but Dean has to fucking go. 

“Sammy, you do what you have to but me and him, we’re done. I don’t want to know him. And he doesn’t get to know me.” Sam looks two seconds away from crying and the tear streaked six-year-old from Dean’s memories surfaces. Dean really tried his best for that kid. 

He lowers his voice, not wanting John to hear him. “I gotta go find Cas,” his throat closes on Cas’ name and then he really has to leave, his eyes meeting Charlie’s understanding gaze before he stalks around to the garage, peeling out with Baby back towards home. 

Dean doesn’t look back. 

Christmas fucking Day and John Winchester shows up to shit all over it and fuck—why did Cas run? And where the fuck would he go, everything is fucking closed today. 

He throws the Impala in park and checks the garage, both bikes still inside the dark room. He fucking prays Cas is upstairs so they can just jump in the car and get the fuck outta dodge but every room is dark when Dean checks them. And he fucking checks, clears every single room like his training taught him. Their house is fucking empty. 

He changes out of his new jacket, hanging it up before he puts on a coat better suited for the rain. Dean throws on a hat and grabs a beanie for Cas and some towels, not knowing how he’s gonna find him but never for a second thinking he won’t. 

He’s about to rush out the door when a picture catches his eye. It’s the sketch of him Cas drew, the first day they met. Dean framed it after they moved in together and it sits next to the wooden tray they throw their keys in every day. Dean touches the frame and stares at the picture.

_ He needs to find Cas.  _

Cas’ phone goes straight to voicemail every time Dean tries it. And he tries it a lot between frantic texts to him, pleading with Cas to call him. Dean ignores messages from Sam but shoots Charlie a text, asking her to put a few friends at the station on alert. If he can’t reach Cas in the next hour, he’s putting out an APB. 

All he knows is, Cas is out somewhere in the storm, alone, upset, and without a fucking jacket because it’s sitting next to Dean on the seat of the Impala. They were going to take a drive to Sausalito to watch a Christmas movie marathon Dean found online. He was looking forward to surprising Cas with it. 

He sighs and tries to call Cas again. 

“This is my voicemail. Make… your voice... a mail.”

Dean leaves voicemail after voicemail and sends text after text.

**< <Please baby, call me back. Need to make sure you're OK. **

**< <I love you**

_ Where the fuck is Cas?  _

Dean calls Meg. If anyone knows Cas’ hiding spots besides Dean, it's her. 

“Well, Merry Christmas Dean-o,” she drawls upon answering. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Have you heard from Cas?”

His tone must convey his desperation, Meg's voice changing instantly. “What happened? Where's Cas?”

“I don't know,” Dean answers, frustrated. “My piece of shit dad showed up. Said some crap and Cas took off.”

“You fucking moron—”  

_ What the fuck.  _

“I can't believe you would—”  

There's a commotion on the other side of the phone. 

“Dean, you say Cas is missing? Did you check that silly dome he likes?”

Palace of Fine Arts. Dean takes an immediate right. 

“Thanks Baz, you're a good guy. Tell Meg I'm gonna find him.”

“I know you will,” Baz’s voice softens. “Hurry though, would you? Storm is supposed to get worse before it gets better.” 

Dean's heartbeat quickens. 

“Here's Meg, darling.”

“Dean, he isn't at the restaurant or the co-op, I checked the security cameras. We'll come back, do you need us to come back?”

Meg and Balthazar are out of town for the holiday. New York, Dean thinks. Fuck, Meg just saved him so much time checking those cameras. 

“No, I've got some stops to make, I'll get the PD lookin’ if I have to,” he makes a sharp right on Market. “Call me if you hear from him? And keep an eye on those cameras?”

“We will. And we'll text you a list of spots, just in case.” Meg's voice drops to a whisper. “Take care of my unicorn, Dean.”

Dean sighs. 

“I'll find him.”

He ends the call. 

Dean’s phone rings in his hand. 

“Charlie? Anything?”

“No,” Charlie sounds like she's been crying. “He's not picking up any of our calls and I can't trace his phone.”

_ Dean really doesn't want to know.  _

“If he has it on him, it's off.”

“I could have told you that.”

“I was hoping you'd have found him at home.” Charlie's frustration is clear. 

“Me too.”

She's quiet and all Dean can hear is the hum of the windshield wipers beating across his windshield. 

“Sam and Sarah are driving around looking, Sarah was on the phone with a few gallery owners she knows.”

Fuck. That could include Kali which means Dean has to call Gabe now. 

“Dean? Your dad—”  

“Charlie, I can’t talk about him right now. I’m sorry.” Dean arrives at the Palace of Fine Arts and his eyes scan past the lake searching for Cas under the arches. “I gotta go, call me if you hear anything.” 

He’s hanging up the phone before he’s even out of the car, running down to the rain soaked rotunda. He spins around under the dome and lets out a frustrated growl when he doesn’t see Cas. The complex is bigger than he thought but fuck if Dean doesn’t check everywhere. He’s soaked and he throws his wet hat against the dashboard when he gets back inside the car. 

With every hour Dean can’t find him, his frustration grows. He talked to Gabe at some point—  well, talking is a nice way of putting it. Gabe yelled at him for about fifteen minutes before Dean cut him off. He couldn’t convince him to stay in L.A. and by Dean’s estimation, Gabe should be home and pissed off no later than eleven. 

Dean’s checked everywhere he can think, and a lot of places twice. Cas isn’t watching the seals and he’s driven over Cas’ bridge too many fucking times to count, checking the face of every single person walking on it. He’s even been back to the house a few times. Dean drives past the library and the mall, up and down hill after hill, the streets empty. 

At one point, it’s raining so hard Dean has to pull over and wait for it to pass. No one needs to know he had a panic attack while he waited, the pounding of water on the roof overwhelming him to the point he had to get out of the car and just let the rain soak into him. 

He prays to anyone listening that Cas is at least somewhere dry. 

Dean goes home to change. It’s dark now but the streets are still empty, rain soaked pavement glistening under the lights of the city, brighter than usual thanks to the Christmas lights adorning all the different buildings. The rain’s tapered off into a mist and Dean’s clothes are sticking to him in uncomfortable places. 

His steps are heavy when he hits the stairs to the second floor; Dean’s exhausted, scared, and he’s been crying on and off most of the day so he’s dehydrated. Cas still won’t answer his phone. 

Dean notices the lights are on upstairs when he gets halfway up the stairs. Thinking Cas came home, he takes the rest of them two at a time before bursting into the house. 

“Cas?!” 

“Just me,” Sam clears his throat. He’s standing at the island, a cup of coffee in hand. He looks as exhausted as Dean feels. “When I heard you come in, I was really hoping he’d be with you. Why the hell wouldn’t he come home?”

Something in Dean’s heart hardens. This isn’t Cas’ fault. It’s fucking Dean’s fault. Dean brought this poison into Cas’ life, he should have known all along not to bring the curse of his own life into Cas’. Now it’s on Dean to fix. 

“Wherever he’s hiding out, it’s because he doesn’t feel  _ safe _ enough to come home. Because the father of the guy he loves just yelled a fucking homophobic slur at him on the street in the one goddamn city he feels safe.” Dean shakes his head and walks past the kitchen to the other stairwell.  “I don’t blame him for not wanting to come home, not when I’m still here. Do me a favor and start some coffee? I’m gonna change and head back out.”

He doesn’t wait for Sam to answer before he’s up the stairs. 

Their room feels empty. 

As he strips out of his damp clothes, Dean stares at the art above their bed. Cas surprised him with it a few weeks after Halloween. Dean worked an overnight and when he came home in the morning, their bed was covered in drop cloth and Cas was asleep on top, blue and purple paint in his hair, on his hands, and smeared where he touched his face. 

Cas had printed a copy of their first picture together, the one under the trees of Cas kissing him, and silkscreened it to the wall, using his paint and talent to turn it into a fucking masterpiece. “When I kiss him, storms rise beneath my skin,” painted in Cas’ loopy scrawl at the bottom. 

Dean didn’t even bother moving the drop cloth when he woke Cas up show him his gratitude. 

Dean stares at it now, alone in their cold, dark room and tears well in his eyes. They fucking had it, all of it and now—  

“Dean?” 

Sam’s voice in the emptiness makes Dean jump. He grabs a shirt and throws it on. “Yeah?” his voice comes out rough; the unshed tears in the back of his throat burn. 

“Why don’t you stay, I can go looking again while you—” 

“No.” 

Sam stills. 

“I need to find him.” He pulls a beanie out of Cas’ stash and puts it on. “Need him to know it’s safe for him to come home, even if he doesn’t want me here.” 

“Just because dad—”  

“Don’t—don’t talk to me about him. Not tonight.” He rubs his forehead. “Why don’t you go home? Gabe will be here soon and when Cas comes home, I don’t think either of them will wanna see two Winchesters, let alone one. I’ll call you in the morning.” 

“He’s gotta know you’re not dad.” 

Dean sighs. That isn’t the problem.

“He knows. Look, there’s a lot you don’t know and even more that I don’t know so please, I just—I can’t have you here right now, man.” 

“Okay, Dean,” Sam sounds defeated but Dean can’t think about that now. It’s easier than he thinks it would be, his overwhelming need to make sure Cas is safe the most important thing to him. He’s already wasted too much time. 

“We’re staying at Charlie’s tonight. Call me. Or her,” he clears his throat. “Whatever you want. And I—we’ll call if we hear anything.”

“Thanks, Sammy.” 

Sam gives him a quick nod and leaves and Dean’s thankful he didn’t dig in for once. 

He makes quick work of turning on the heaters, determined to have the house warm and cozy when he brings Cas home. Dean leaves a few lights on for Gabe and climbs back into the Impala but not before filling a thermos of hot coffee for Cas. 

It’s still raining. Dean hates every fucking drop. He wants to go over the bridge again, just in case. He drives out of the rain, not even needing his windshield wipers by the time he gets across. There’s hardly any people out now, it’s too cold and too wet and it’s fucking Christmas. People are gathered around turkeys or something, Dean’s not sure but it doesn’t matter, he just wants Cas. 

Fewer faces to check, anyway. 

He turns the Impala around at Vista Point, the tall red towers of the bridge catching his eye. They’re shrouded in fog but brightly lit, the lanterns that shine on her every night earning their keep on the cold holiday. Dean can’t help but park and step out for a minute. If Cas were here, if they were on their way home from their movie marathon, he’d make Dean stop and he’d kiss Dean under the trees on the bluff and he would definitely tease Dean for not having a camera on him for the gorgeous view in front of them. 

If Cas were here, he’d remind Dean this was one of the places they visited on their first big date and he’d tell Dean about seeing him against the backdrop of his bridge and the city and how it made Cas want to know Dean even more. Dean remembers it as the day he decided to take a chance. 

He hopes it wasn’t all for nothing. 

Dean almost can’t make his feet move. It’s too much to think about, what they’ve lost and how all day, it's felt like needles in his lungs when he inhales, the idea that Cas won’t want him after this. 

Dean pulls his jacket tighter, the cold biting through the canvas. It’s late, too late, and Dean’s next stop is the Police Department. He cups his hands and blows hot breath into them while he walks, the gravel crunching under his boots loud in the silence of the night. Dean kicks a rock and watches it skitter ahead.

His gaze drifts up to find he isn’t as alone as he thought. 

Cas. 

He’s sitting on a bench, staring at his hands dangling between his knees. His shoulders are slumped and seeing him there in silhouette—the mist and rain surrounding him, his bridge lit behind him—breaks Dean’s heart in the same moment relief courses through his body. 

_ Cas. Cas, Cas, he’s here. He’s safe.  _

He strangles on Cas’ name, Dean’s cry coming out weak when he kneels between Cas’ legs. Cas’ hands are like blocks of ice so Dean holds them, grips them tight and wills his body heat to warm Cas. 

Fuck, Dean found him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


	30. Chapter 30

A sob bursts from Cas’ mouth and he pulls Dean to him, Dean burying his face into Cas’ lap. Cas’ jeans are cold against Dean’s cheek and Dean bunches his hands into Cas’ shirt. He’s freezing all over and Dean feels sick. 

“I’m here, I’m here—God, Cas where the hell have you been?” Dean lifts his head and Cas moves, his body draped over Dean’s back. He can’t stop himself from cupping Cas’ face and kissing him, his goddamn lips like ice. Dean tries to thaw them with his own mouth. 

If he’s losing this, Dean needs everything Cas is still willing to give him. 

“I fucked up, I fucked up, Cas,” Dean murmurs between kisses. Cas cries silent tears that slice through Dean’s heart as they slip down Cas’ cheeks. “Come on, let me take you home, please,” Dean begs. “I won’t stay, I just want to make sure you’re safe, I—”  

“What did you say? Why wouldn’t you stay?” Cas growls, like he hasn’t spoken since Dean last saw him nine hours ago. “Dean, why wouldn’t you stay?” He clutches at Dean’s shoulders. 

“Shhh honey, come on, let’s get you home, warm you up,” Dean pleads. “We can talk about everything when you’re not freezing half to death, fuck.” He gathers Cas in his arms, almost surprised at how little he resists, for a guy who made a point to be gone all day. 

Maybe Cas got tired of running. Maybe Dean got lucky. 

Dean gets Cas into the car and he cranks the heater. Cas shrinks under his arm and Dean pulls his jacket off to cover him with. He’s shivering now and Dean thinks he’s going to fucking lose it. He holds Cas tighter, securing the lap belt over him before Cas curls under his arm. Dean drives slow, the Impala a cocoon of warmth, the windows fogged over enough that Dean has to crack a window so the windshield stays clear. Cas burrows into his neck when the first gust of cold air sweeps through the car. 

He’s been asleep since they crossed the bridge. Dean pulled over and sent a few texts out, most importantly to the anxious sibling Dean knew was still in the air. Some good news to land to, he supposes. Next, Dean hits the group text with a simple, “I found him,” and shuts off his phone. Tears run down his face, the adrenaline of finding Cas working its way through him. His limbs are burning and his chest heaves. Dean covers his mouth and holds Cas tighter, willing himself to get it the fuck together before he disturbs him. He’s already dreading the moment they get home and Dean has to wake him. 

Dean takes his time getting them there. Why not? They’re going home to a fucked up situation and the longer he can hold on to Cas, the better. A small gasp alerts Dean that Cas is awake and he’s glad. They’re driving through the Mission and the Christmas decorations are beautiful, shining in the wet night. Every raindrop on the windshield glitters under the lights. 

Regardless of everything, he still wants Cas to enjoy some of the holiday. 

Cas stares out the window, enthralled, the colors flashing across his face and it makes Dean’s heart ache. 

“Want me to pull over?” he asks softly. 

Cas seems to deflate. He shakes his head. “It’s beautiful but, I don’t want to remember today.” 

Dean forces himself to breathe. He drives faster. 

Cas doesn’t speak until they get back to the house. He pauses before he enters their room. “I’m going to take a bath.” 

It’s all Cas says before he closes the bathroom door behind him. Dean slumps against the door frame. He has no fucking clue what to do. Cas wants his space, he doesn’t want to be near Dean, that much is obvious. Dean’s not sure if he should wait for Gabe or just pack a bag and go, pretty confident Cas won’t run again. 

He sighs when he hears the bathtub start to run. Time to get a move on. Dean grabs his duffle and throws it on the bed before he digs his phone out to plug it in while he grabs a few things. He sits heavy on the bed when he finds Cas’ phone charging on the nightstand, the little red light blinking like crazy. 

Dean and half the Castro have been trying to reach Cas all day and now Dean knows why they couldn’t. 

“Dean?” 

He looks up to see Cas in the bathroom doorway. His beautiful eyeliner is smudged, his hair limp and plastered to his forehead. Cas’ normally bright eyes are dull and lifeless and his sweet mouth is turned down. His sorrow makes Dean’s stomach turn. 

Cas is barefoot, his pants pulled open. What used to be a pristine white henley is dirty, smeared with dirt and grime from the rain and the city and fuck knows what. Dean can’t take looking at him for another moment. 

“Oh, honey,” Dean murmurs, pushing to his feet to get across the room to Cas, wrapping him in his arms. Cas melts into Dean and breathes harshly into his chest. “Come on, let's get you in this bath.” 

“Will you join me, please?” Cas’ voice is soft and it rips Dean to shreds. 

“I think it’s better if I go, Cas, I—”  

Cas rears back, his face stricken. “Why, you said that before and I don’t understand. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I ran, I just—” His face crumbles.  

Dean doesn’t  _ want _ to go anywhere. “I can’t let him poison you too, Cas. I was selfish, I thought I could start over here and I pretended my past would never bleed into our life together.” 

Tears slip down Cas’ cheeks and it makes Dean’s throat burn. 

He looks at Dean, eyes wide and bloodshot and full of unshed tears. “Please, don’t go.” 

Dean can never deny Cas anything. He’ll get him in the bath and to bed and then, hopefully Cas will sleep and then he can decide what to do. 

Cas lets himself be stripped, still shivering despite the steam. Dean rubs his arms and kisses the tops of Cas’ shoulders. Every time he does, Cas’ breath hitches. Dean adds lavender oil to the hot water before he helps Cas into the tub, Cas still protesting that Dean isn’t getting in with him. 

“Let me take care of you honey, please,” Dean soothes him, kneeling next to the tub. Cas sinks into the water and shuts his eyes. 

Watching his body relax in the hot water helps Dean let go of some tension he’s been holding. He gets up to gather Cas’ dirty clothes, tossing them out into the room. Dean will replace everything ruined. He doesn’t want Cas to have to think about it. Dean strips off his flannel, throwing it to the hamper. He throws a hoodie on the bed to wear when he leaves. 

Steam rises from the tub and Cas finally looks relaxed soaking in the water. Exhaustion licks at Dean’s bones. He sighs and kneels down next to Cas again, this time with shampoo. Cas’ eyes flutter when Dean clicks the bottle open and he watches Dean, his anguish putting a knot in Dean’s throat. 

He swallows noisily around it. Cas stares at him. 

Dean’s caught; he’s choking on the unanswered questions he’s dying to ask, wanting to know why Cas ran, wanting to know everything and understanding that he has no right to any answers. His own sadness makes his mouth turn down. Dean looks away because it just hurts too fucking much. 

He shuffles over to the end of the tub behind Cas, the place he always settles to wash Cas’ hair. Cas sits up enough for Dean to do it. 

Cas groans when Dean’s hands sink into his hair, his thick locks slipping between Dean’s fingers while he works up a lather. He digs his finger pads into Cas’ scalp, rubbing small circles. It’s soothing for both of them. 

Cas sighs. “Remember when I told you about my uncle?” He rubs his thumb over his tattoo. Dean’s hands still in Cas’ hair. 

“My mother sent me to take care of his affairs? That kind of responsibility is not appropriate for a sixteen-year-old boy and certainly not one who just lost the closest thing he’s ever had to a father.” 

Dean slips his hands down to rub Cas’ shoulders. 

“I was an absolute wreck when I returned home and then months later, Gabriel left.” 

Cas shudders and sits up. “I—I don’t want to—I’m sorry, I feel so exposed, can we please talk in bed?” His shoulders shake and Dean rubs them. 

“Sure Cas, let's get you under the shower.” Dean smoothes the hair on his forehead back so soap doesn’t drip in Cas’ eyes. 

Cas’ brow furrows. “I want you to get in.” 

Dean stays quiet as he helps Cas to stand, turning on the shower and pulling the plug on the tub. Cas’ hands tighten on his arms. “Why won’t you look at me?” he asks, demanding Dean’s attention. Guilt weighs heavy in his gut. 

“Dean,” Cas pleads, his voice cracking and it shatters Dean’s resolve. He climbs into the tub, socks and all and buries his face into Cas’ neck, pulling him into a tight hold. “Don’t  _ go. _ Don’t  _ go _ ,  _ please  _ don’t go,” he chants into Dean’s hair while he tries to pull off Dean’s clothes that are slowly becoming saturated. 

“I don’t wanna, never wanna leave you, Cas,” he murmurs. Dean lets Cas pull off his shirt and run his hands down Dean’s chest, quick to get to Dean’s pants and pull them open. “Hey, hey,” he places his hands over Cas’, trying to get Dean’s pants down. “Don’t worry about that.” He sits on the edge of the tub and pulls them off, Cas’ standing under the water, his hands clenching and unclenching. 

The water streams off Cas’ firm heaving chest and Dean can’t—he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing when he takes Cas by the back of his head and kisses him, firm and true, Cas’ mouth opening to him without hesitation. Desperate moans crawl from Cas’ throat and he claws at Dean’s back almost like he wants to drag them closer together. His tongue is hot when he licks into Dean’s mouth and Dean hangs on, sucking on Cas’ tongue to elicit more filthy noises out of him. 

Cas is the one to stop them, he’s the one to turn off the shower and pull Dean out, to towel them off and drag them into their bed. Dean goes, it’s impossible not to when Cas won’t let go of his hand, when Cas presses him into the mattress and won’t stop sucking at his neck. 

“Cas,” Dean murmurs, threading a hand through Cas’ wet hair. “Baby, stop.” 

Cas freezes and rips himself away from Dean. Dean moans—all of this hurts too fucking much. “Cas, we gotta talk about this, we can’t— _ do _ what we  _ do _ and expect to come out of this okay.” Cas is staring at him from the other side of the bed, his back pressed to the wall. Dean knows it’s cold to the touch. He reaches for Cas. “Please, talk to me,” he begs. “I need you, Cas,” he drops his voice to a whisper, unsure of what else he can do or even say. 

Dean closes his eyes in relief when Cas threads their fingers together. 

“I haven’t told anyone this story in years, Dean,” Cas speaks quietly but he’s closer when Dean opens his eyes. Dean threads an arm under Cas’ neck and Cas settles in, wiggling into the blankets when Dean tucks them under. “I think it’s fair to say we both keep our skeletons in the back of the closet and maybe if we’d been more honest, I’d have handled today better.” 

Cas’ sigh sounds like it weighs a thousand pounds. 

“I can’t say anything beyond my apologies for my part in that, you’ve more than earned access to all of my secrets but this, this part of me? It changed who I am.” His voice shakes. “And I wasn’t sure if you could love—”  he chokes on the word. “If you could love me after you knew.” 

Dean gathers him in his arms. “Remember in Tahoe, remember I told you no matter what you say, it’s not gonna change the way I feel? I love you Cas, so fuckin’ much, I was dyin’ all day today, worried outta my mind about you, sweetheart.” Dean kisses him, kisses him with every aching part of him that suffered today, every second of anxiety he felt looking everywhere for Cas and coming up short over and over. “Tell me your story, Cas—I’m gonna love you no matter what.” 

He noses at the curve of Cas’ jaw and kisses him softly. “Talk to me,” he pleads, his voice a whisper. 

Cas clenches his jaw but nods and stares up at the ceiling. Dean splays a hand across his belly, hoping it’s reassuring.

“I told you we were raised modest but left out the serious religious overtones that dominated our household. Our mother was devout.” His eyes drift shut as he remembers. “When her and my father married, two children were agreed upon.”

_ Agreed upon? What the fuck? _

“She was pleased we were both boys. I’d hate to imagine her parenting a daughter.” Cas shudders. “My mother was rigid, structured, and her pregnancies were meticulously planned. What wasn’t, was the death of our father. I was eight months old.” He swallows. “Car accident.” 

Dean didn’t know they’d have one more thing in common. “I’m sorry, hon.” 

Cas looks at him. “I didn’t know him,” he says simply. “She never spoke of him to us so not having a dad wasn’t strange until we were in school.”

Dean remembers that feeling. Kids look at you like you’re a freak when you say you have a dead mom so eventually, he just stopped talking about both his parents. Much easier. Dean had other things to worry about at that age, anyway. 

“Gabe and I are much closer in age, two years to your four with Sam so he was less of a father figure but fiercely protective. Naomi would find me asleep in his bed every night, Gabriel sleeping over me, arms spread like wings as if to shield me.” His smile is fond. “He took that to heart and has wings tattooed on his back. I helped design them.” 

_ Well, damn. The Archangel Gabriel.  _

“When we were in school, he would fight with the other children because I was, quite—different—more serious than them and it scared them and kids, kids can be cruel, Dean.” Cas’ eyes are haunted and it breaks Dean’s heart all over again. “I eventually started standing up for  _ myself _ which meant we’d just end up fighting whoever it was together and, well, mother was less than pleased.” 

“That’s how you ended up at your uncles,” Dean guesses. 

Cas nods. “Every summer spent with him, I discovered more about myself. I never felt right, I never felt like I fit. My mother’s expectations of me, I struggled against them so much, Dean, and I felt  _ bad. _ ” He’s trembling now, and Dean aches to comfort him. “I was at constant war with myself. It was easier for Gabriel, he’s always been who he is, nothing could change that and I think our mother understood that.” 

“Six months after my uncle passed away, Gabriel turned eighteen, came out to our mother, and walked out the door.” 

_ Fuck, as if losing his uncle wasn’t enough, the rest of his world had to come down after it. _

Cas’ chest heaves and Dean closes the distance, the white sheets disappearing under them when their bodies come together. “Cas, baby,” he murmurs, kissing Cas’ wet cheeks. 

“He told me—” Cas hiccups. “He told me he had to go, he was coming here to set up a life for us and when I turned eighteen, I could leave and not look back. Sounds great but when you’re sixteen, two years seems like forever and him leaving felt a lot like him leaving  _ me _ .” 

Dean can’t help but wonder if Sam ever felt that way when Dean left for the Army. His dad told him he did, but he doesn’t know Sam was the one to push Dean in that direction. 

“I admit—it was a very difficult time for me. I felt very alone and vulnerable and it was easy to believe when my mother said the church could help, that despite who leaves us, God would remain.”

Dean holds Cas tighter and his voice flattens.

“I was attending retreats every weekend and they’d put us with these counselors, designed to make you talk, to ‘connect you with Jesus’ and to ‘help you find your path’.” Cas closes his eyes. “My counselor's name was Bartholomew.” 

The way Cas says his name makes Dean’s skin crawl.

“After a few months, he earned my trust and my confession that I’d known I was gay for sometime and my conflict over it.” He shakes his head. “I prayed telling him would take some weight from my shoulders and it  _ did _ , he told me that when he was my age, he thought he was gay too but the church had helped him and it could help me.” 

Dean thinks he’s gonna be sick. 

“Can you imagine my relief? I’d seen what being gay did to Gabe, I knew how it affected my mother’s relationship with her own brother and I didn’t want to be another disappointment to her. I was already atoning for my behavior in my youth. I could  _ fix _ this, I could be the son she wanted me to be.” 

Dean can see where this is going and it's a nightmare, the worst kind. He wants to stop Cas, doesn’t want him to have to relive anything that would confirm Dean’s suspicions about the rest of this fucking story. 

A pounding on their door does it for him. 

Cas sits up, the sheets pooling around his waist. 

“Castiel! Open the fucking door!” Gabe’s voice is commanding and it even makes Dean want to get up and move. 

Cas shrinks into the blankets, immune to his brothers demands. 

Dean throws him a pair of cotton pants. “Come on, he won’t give up until he gets proof of life.” He pulls on his own pants as Cas slips into the bathroom. 

Dean flips on a light in their living room before pulling open the door for Gabe. “Did you bring up coffee at least?” 

Gabe scowls and hands Dean a French press filled with coffee that smells amazing. He pushes past him. “Where the hell is he?” 

Dean nods towards the bathroom and goes to pour some cups for them. 

“I’m not staying,” Gabriel spits out. “Come out, now!” he yells at the bathroom door. 

Dean sits on the edge of their bed with two cups of coffee. He puts Cas’ on the end table and crosses his legs to sit and wait for Cas to come out. 

“Where did you find him?” Gabe mutters under his breath at Dean while he paces back and forth between the two rooms. 

“Vista Point.” Dean sips his coffee while Gabe cringes. “Got him into a hot bath and we’ve been talking since.” 

“How did this fuckin’ happen?”

“Still don’t know, we haven’t gotten there yet. We were getting close when you came up here knocking the door down.” 

Gabriel scowls at him and then at the bathroom door. Dean assumes they’re equally offensive to him at the moment. 

“This is the worst it’s been since—”  

The bathroom door swings open. Cas’ hair is dripping wet again, but he has a tentative smile on his face for his brothers benefit. 

He spreads his arms. “See, I live.”

Gabe gathers him in his arms and presses his forehead to Cas’ shoulder, the fight going out of him. “You’re a real son of a bitch, old pal.” 

“Actually, yeah.” 

Cas’ gallows humor cracks them both up, their laughter just short of hysterical. 

“I left my phone,” Cas is sheepish and he accepts Gabe’s playful smack to the back of his head. Dean’s glad he didn’t have to do it, at least. 

“Had a lot of people worried, kiddo,” Gabe tells him. “But it’s all good, I called for a stand down, and now that I’ve laid eyes on you, I can confirm you’re all right.” He shakes Cas by the shoulder. “You are? All right?” 

Cas’ eyes flick to Dean and Dean looks down into his coffee cup. He misses Cas’ silent answer to Gabe’s question and he’s glad for it because he has no fucking clue what it might have been. 

And that uncertainty scares the shit out of him.


	31. Chapter 31

Cas is considerably settled after Gabe leaves. He sits crossed legged across from Dean, his long fingers packing his favorite pipe. Still—always—the gentleman, he gives it to Dean to hit first and the white swirls of smoke that leave Dean's mouth filter through the scarves hanging above them. Dean tilts his head back to watch it, his high soaking into every muscle and every bone in his body. 

Cas does the same, his smoke mixing with Dean’s, the cloud of it already lingering. They trade it back and forth until it’s cashed and only then does Cas speak.

“Bart—Bartholomew told me what our meetings were for, told me he could help me.” Cas chuckles darkly and it rolls over Dean’s skin like a thick fog. “I  _ asked _ my mother to enroll me in the program. And it felt right when she told me she was proud of me,” he’s bitter and Dean could choke on it. 

“She knew all along, Dean, you have to understand. She set me up with Bart and she let him work and they took advantage of me. Within a week, I no longer lived with her, I lived with them, at their camp. I was no longer enrolled in school, instead given lessons three hours a day to meet state curriculum.” 

_ Jesus fucking—   _

“Believe me when I say that I knew I had made a grave mistake,” he sounds so regretful, it makes Dean’s chest hurt. Dean can’t imagine realizing people he desperately needed to trust had tricked him. 

Every confession of betrayal helps Dean understand the road that led them here. It’s typical for people to hurt you, to fuck you up a little, hell—it helps people grow. But this? This is more than any one person should have to endure. Especially a person as incredible and kind as Cas. 

“It was—awful. Everyone’s seen the softly lit Dateline specials about conversion camps but this—this wasn’t  _ that. _ ” He shudders and packs another bowl, this time smoking half before he passes it to Dean. 

“They’d pull us out of our rooms and the guy that ran the place, Zachariah, he’d take us out for ‘sessions’, just him and our counselor and Zach he’d—he’d say awful things, Dean—”  Cas is dazed as he recounts his own personal horror. “He knew things about me, about my family, my uncle—Gabe—things about their sinful life and how Cain was burning in hell and Gabe would join him and  _ so would I _ if I didn’t change.” 

“Hours, Dean. He’d tear into us for hours in these cold rooms, only a hard stool to sit on. The freezing temperatures would saturate my bones, Dean and then, when I thought I couldn’t take another minute, he’d stop and let Bart in.” 

Cas stops, his chest heaving. Dean gives him all the time he needs. 

“He’d come with a blanket and he’d take me to his room. It would be warm and he’d have tea and oatmeal cookies for me, I still can’t eat them to this day.” He breathes steady through his nose and Dean copies him, the story getting him so worked up he wants to scream. Breathing slow helps. 

“Bartholomew he—he would read me the bible and he would—” Cas’ jaw locks. “He would offer to purge my sins with his own. Always asking nicely, never upset when I would refuse,” Cas spits this out like it tastes sour in his mouth. It probably does. 

Bile is teasing at the back of Dean’s throat. 

“He’d tell me God would guide us together when I was ready, and that he could wait.” Cas shudders. “Fuck, I want to take a scalding hot shower just thinking of him again.” 

So does Dean.

“I was there for three months, a session a week, when the feds busted the ‘camp’ up. They came for Zachariah in the middle of the day, strolled in and took all of them and those of us that were under eighteen went to the state.” 

_ What the fuck. _

“Naomi signed over her parental rights to Zachariah,” he shakes his head. Cas’ voice is getting stronger. “Thank fuck because if she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten the help the state gave us,  _ intensive _ therapy. Apparently, the Governor at the time was trying to reverse the negativity of Illinois being a state that still allowed conversion camps so he really didn't want the liability of all us broken gay kids on his hands, after they busted Zach. As youth, we didn’t even have to testify.” 

Dean smokes the rest of the bowl and tries to control his breathing. This is the most fucked up thing he’s ever heard. In all his years in law enforcement, he’s heard stories about these camps but never has he come across anyone who was in one. 

“I was in the system for a year before I aged out and in that year, I took advantage of any help they offered. Daily therapy, school—I got my GED and I even took some art classes. Gabe came, six months before I was eighteen. Naomi refused to tell him anything and he had to find me through the fucking system. He fought like hell to see me and then kept fighting to get me out of the group home I was in.” 

Cas’ guardian angel. Dean owes Gabe a long conversation and a beer. 

“He picked me up on my eighteenth birthday and we drove straight here.” 

Dean knows what happened next, with Michael. He finally understands why it took so long for either of them to trust anyone new coming into Cas’ life. Holy shit, Dean had no fucking clue what he’d been up against.

Cas gives his shoulders a slight shrug. “You know the rest.” He takes a long sip of his coffee before he puts it down, almost like he’s ready for Dean to either yell at him or bolt. 

When Dean does neither, he continues. “When I met you Dean, I hadn’t trusted anyone in a long time. But you, you were something different. You broke down every single wall I’d built and you did it only after you asked my permission. You’re the man who helped me believe in love, Dean, in goodness and kindness and you’ve brought people into my life that embody those same things and I’m so grateful for you.” 

Dean’s heart pounds in his chest. 

“I don’t feel lost anymore, Dean,” Cas speaks plainly, in a way only he knows how. “Now that I found you.” 

_ God, Dean loves him. _

Cas’ eyes grow wide when Dean closes the space between them because if he doesn’t kiss Cas now, he’s sure he’ll die or something worse.  Cas sobs into Dean’s mouth when they come together, one hand gripping Dean’s left shoulder and the other, digging into his hair. Dean loves Cas so much, he feels like it’s gonna overflow and drown them both. 

If this is how he’s gonna go, it’s a hell of a way to do it, consumed by Cas. 

Cas pulls away from Dean, his face twisted in pain, desperation in his eyes. He holds Dean’s face in his hands and Dean fights back tears. 

“Did I ruin everything?” His eyes search Dean’s. “Tell me the truth,” he demands. Dean struggles against his hold, struggles to shake his head. 

“No, no, Cas, fuck no,” Dean grits out. “Told you this wasn’t gonna change anything,” he stops struggling when Cas closes his eyes in relief. He strokes a thumb over Dean’s cheek. 

“Always gonna love you, Cas. Always.”

Dean tries not to think about how Cas is gonna feel after they talk about  _ his _ dad, instead focusing on the man climbing into his lap. He thinks they’ve earned the distraction. 

Dean cups Cas’ ass and helps him settle on his thighs, tilting his head to the side so Cas can kiss him, Cas’ mouth hot and insistent as he licks and sucks at Dean’s skin like it’s the last time. He fucking prays it isn’t. 

Dean groans when Cas sucks just on the right side of painful and he knows his neck will be covered in bruises in the morning. He presses his hand to the back of Cas’ head to encourage him. 

“I love you, I love you,” Cas murmurs between bruises and it makes Dean feel owned by the only man in the world he gives himself to completely. It’s satisfying to get lost in Cas’ mouth. 

He runs his hands up and down Cas’ wriggling body, his hips moving against Dean in time with his pulse, a hot beat between their bodies. Cas’ cock grows against Dean’s hip and Dean wants to taste him. 

Dean holds Cas against him when he tips his hips up, lifting him up and down into the sheets. Cas just switches sides and begins to match the bruises. He growls when Dean breaks away and dips down to nose at his hips. Dean gathers Cas’ pants by the waistband and pulls them down, Cas’ gorgeous cock slapping against his taut stomach, his head pink and already wet for Dean. He positions himself between Cas’ legs and looks down at the beautiful man below him. Cas’ chest is flushed and Dean can see the hurricane behind his blue eyes. 

“You are so perfect for me,” he murmurs before he dips down to suck Cas’ cock into his mouth, saliva flooding it the moment Cas’ salty pre-come coats his tongue. He sucks, wet and noisy, as far down as he can, working his tongue against the bundle of nerves under the head, getting his favorite sound in return, Cas groaning his name from deep in his throat. 

Dean sucks Cas deeper and swallows around the head of his cock, his throat fluttering making Cas cry out. Spit leaks out of the corners of his mouth and slides down the creases of Cas’ soft body. Dean’s hand follows, slick now, and he pulls and rubs Cas’ balls, making him squirm and groan above him. Relentless moans fall from Cas’ mouth as Dean rubs lower still, pressing this fingers against the soft pad of skin between Cas’ legs. It’s wet and Dean presses harder until Cas bucks his hips and spreads his legs wider. 

“Yeah,” Dean whispers into his skin, “let me see you baby,” he growls between licks. Dean uses his thumb to spread Cas’ cheeks open, staring at Cas’ sweet, pink rim just waiting for him. He flicks his tongue against Cas’ pucker and Dean gets what he wants, Cas choking on his name. 

He pushes Cas’ legs back, his ass coming off the bed, his knees around his own ears. 

_ Bendy motherfucker. _

Cas smirks and tips his hips up higher. Dean presses a sucking kiss to Cas’ rim and Cas’ pulls his hair for it, sighing out a breathy, “fuck,” when Dean laves at his hole, pushing his tongue inside between licks, his hands keeping Cas folded in half while Dean eats him out. He tastes so fucking good, Dean wants to make him come like this. He slides his fingers around Cas’ rim, spreading it open at the same time Dean licks and sucks them wet enough to slide two into Cas. Cas takes them, and Dean loves the way Cas’ body swallows his thick fingers. 

He sucks on the head of Cas’ cock and pumps his fingers into him until Cas a writhing mess. Cas fucks himself down on Dean’s fingers and he moans around Dean’s name. He’s a blur of gold skin and beautiful color, dark hair and eyes that rival the ocean and Dean wants to make him fall apart. 

Dean’s tongue joins his fingers and he strokes Cas’ cock, his thumb brushing over the head, again and again until Cas is coming, thick ropes of come painting his stomach and running over Dean’s hand, Cas’ hole clenching around his fingers and tongue. 

He eases another finger inside Cas and he keens, his cock spurting out another drop of come that slips down the shaft. Dean licks it off, keeping Cas’ hot come on his tongue and then kissing him, Cas fucked out, his mouth soft when Dean kisses it. He moans when their tongues meet, his own salty flavor hitting his senses. 

“Dean,” he pants. “Want you to fuck me,  _ please,”  _ Cas begs against his mouth. “I need to feel you, Dean,” he cuts himself off by kissing Dean again, his mouth wet and dragging against Dean’s cheek while Cas pushes at Dean’s pants. 

Dean’s so fucking hard and Cas is so fucking beautiful, he’d never be able to tell him no. Instead, he nods and guides Cas’ knees to the side, his fingers slipping out of Cas. Cas makes a sound of protest in his throat but Dean shushes him. 

“Trust me, babe,” he whispers. “Gonna make sure you feel me,” he promises and Cas shudders. He turns himself over and spreads his knees, his shoulders dropping to the mattress. He’s on display for Dean and it’s almost enough to make him come. 

Dean drops down and kisses Cas between his shoulder blades before he grabs their lube and slicks his cock. He drips lube against Cas’ exposed hole and it flutters when the drops hit it. 

Dean eases a thumb inside, tugging Cas open. 

He drags his fingers through the lube before slipping them inside Cas, twisting them just right to brush against his prostate. Cas grinds his hips back. 

“I want your cock, Dean,” he demands over his shoulder, his eyes wild. 

“Bossy little thing,” Dean mutters with a slap to Cas’ thigh. Cas moans and his neck flushes. Dean makes an interested noise in his throat before he pulls his fingers free from Cas. He slides his cock against the crack of Cas’ ass instead. “Like that?” Dean swats him again and Cas moans something filthy and rocks his hips. “Your ass is turning such a lovely shade of carnation,” Dean drops down to purr into Cas’ ear and make him shiver. “We’re gonna explore this little kink of yours later, darlin’.” 

Cas buries his face into the sheets with another groan. Dean over his teasing when Cas sways his hips and catches Dean’s cock on his rim. Dean puts a steadying hand on Cas’ hip and slides into Cas in one fluid motion, his hips coming to rest against Cas’ ass in a delicious slide. Fuck, Cas is tight and hot and his ass clenches around Dean’s cock so good, he needs a minute to get it together. 

“Dean,” Cas begs. Dean stills his jerking hips. 

“Cas,” he warns before he’s moving, punching a moan out of Cas with every snap of his hips. Every hot, wet slide has Dean closer and closer to the edge and he has to soothe his hands over Cas’ hips and ass to keep himself from floating away and losing himself in the heat of Cas’ body. 

“Harder,” Cas begs, “I know you can fuck me harder, Dean.”

_ Fuck, the mouth on him. _

Dean grips Cas by the hip and does as he’s told until there’s nothing left of them but touch and heat and noise, both of them frantic for the other. He pulls Cas up by the back of the neck to press his long hard body against Dean’s. He wraps both arms around him and grinds his hips hard against Cas’ ass and Cas pushes back, giving as good as he gets, Dean sure to have some bruises on his hips in the morning. Fuck, he hopes. 

Cas is mouthing at Dean’s jaw when teeth scrape against it, Cas crying out and tensing in Dean’s arms. Dean’s hand wraps around Cas’ cock as he comes again, spilling hot over Dean’s fingers. 

This is exactly what they both needed. 

Cas is impossibly tight around Dean when he comes, Dean crying out against Cas’ neck, his come filling Cas and leaking down his thighs. They’re both trying to catch their breath when Dean eases them down into the sheets. He places a steadying hand down before spooning around Cas, his softening cock sliding out of him. Dean reaches for some tissue, trying to keep Cas’ discomfort to a minimum. 

“Dean, I’m sticky all over,” he murmurs, his voice soft and fucked out, just how Dean likes it. “Will you clean me up?” 

Dean grins into the soft skin at the back of Cas’ neck. He rolls Cas towards him, his gorgeous naked body soft and used thanks to Dean. 

Dean wants to make him new again.

He takes his time, starting at Cas’ collarbones and working his way down. He starts there just because he likes them. Dean works slow, spends his time licking and kissing Cas’ dark nipples, Cas running a lazy hand through Dean’s hair, soft moans spilling from his lips, sounds that aren’t going anywhere but are lovely just the same. 

Dean licks Cas’ body clean of their spend and still wipes him down after with a warm washcloth. 

They’re both naked and sated and wrapped around each other, Cas’ soft cock pressed against Dean’s hip, both tracing lazy patterns into the other’s skin. 

The question falls from Dean’s lips before his stupid brain can stop them.

“Why did you run, Cas?” 

Dean expected a reaction whenever he asked but he’s surprised when Cas just sighs. 

“I think it’s safe to assume your father’s presence was as unexpected to you as it was to me.”

“Fuck yeah, Cas, I had no clue, hell I don’t even know how he found me. Never told him where I was going or where I ended up.”

Cas frowns at that. “Yes, well, I suppose you aren’t hard to look up, given your public service. Regardless, when he used that awful word—”  

“Cas, I’m so fucking sorry, god, he’s a bastard, that’s why—” 

“Dean.” Cas’ tone leaves no room for Dean to continue.

“That was Zachariah's favorite term of endearment for me,” he spits out his captors name. “He’d use it relentlessly during our sessions.” He bites his lip. “Your father’s disgusted and spiteful tone was the same.” 

Dean closes his eyes. He’s so stupid, he didn’t keep Cas safe from the worst possible thing he could imagine. Cas’ worst memory, evoked by the mouth of the most hateful man in Dean’s life. 

Dean let Cas down in the worst way possible. 

“Dean, no,” Cas shakes him, Dean’s eyes coming back to his face. “Look at me, focus on  _ me. _ ” Dean does. Cas’ gaze grounds him. 

“I don’t think you’re like your father, Dean. I think you’re the person you are in spite of him.” He brushes the hair from Dean’s forehead. “And that’s beautiful.” 

“I think he’s hated me for a really long time,” Dean confesses. Hard to say words out loud that have haunted him his entire life. Now that they’re out there, it makes Dean feel hollow.

“I’m sorry he came here and poisoned us,” he looks anywhere but Cas’ face, focusing on the wall behind him, painted lilac by Cas’ brush. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel safe,” he whispers, unblinking. His eyes tear up. 

Dean doesn’t know how Cas can stand to look at someone as pathetic as him. 

“You’re not pathetic,” Cas murmurs. “And I’ve never once felt unsafe by your side.” He kisses the shell of Dean’s ear, starting there and working soft kisses across his cheek and down his throat. “You’re the bravest man I’ve ever met, Officer,” Cas’ favorite nickname for him cuts through Dean’s pain like a hot knife. 

A tear slips from his eye and Cas kisses it away. 

“I remember when I knew I was in love with you.” 

Dean closes his eyes and more tears fall. Cas kisses his forehead. 

“Do you recall the first night you stayed here?” Dean remembers. “I was so nervous,” Cas huffs. “I’d just had a massive fight with Gabriel over it and—”   

“Wait, over me?” Dean never heard about a fight. 

“Yes, he—he was afraid we were moving too quickly.” Cas kisses Dean before he can protest. “My  _ apologies _ , but it’s not of import right now. When he was comparing you to Michael—”  

_ Oh, fuck that. _

_ “— _ I’m not proud but it was the first time I ever wanted to hit my big brother. Never had I felt such—such fury, Dean. You were  _ nothing _ like Michael, you were the best man I’d ever met and how  _ dare _ Gabriel say otherwise, not having had the chance to meet you?” Cas’ chest heaves and Dean’s heart swells. “I’d never shown such ferocity and it surprised us both.” 

Cas shakes his head. “We both took a step back and then he accused me of being in love with you and I couldn’t deny it.” Hot tears stream down Dean’s face. “And then you loved me back, even after you knew about my mistakes, even after you saw the broken parts of me.” 

Both of Cas’ hands cup Dean’s face and his thumbs brush at the tears. “I’m the luckiest man alive because you love me. And I’m so happy I have the pleasure of loving you, Dean.” Each of Cas’ kisses scattered across his face feels like another stitch in his jagged heart. 

He loves Dean. After all of it, Cas is here and he loves Dean and Dean’s sure about it, sure about them and fuck if that isn’t the most incredible thing to come out of this. 

Cas kisses him until Dean’s tears stop. It takes time for either of them to speak again.

“It is not your fault I ran.” 

“Then why?” Dean pulls back. “If I hadn’t found you when I did, my next stop was the precinct. Where  _ were _ you?” 

“I had to. It felt like fight or flight and I had to go. The yelling and the storm,” he shudders when the memory returns. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger.” 

Dean shakes his head in protest. Cas goes on.

“I spent the day in the library. It was open and, more importantly, dry.” 

Dean drove by the public library at least four times that day.

“Every time I thought about my phone being here, or going home, I’d get up and walk around the stacks until I let myself get distracted by another book.” He sighs. “It was weak of me, I know.” 

Dean can’t fault him for any of it. 

“I’d only been sitting at the Vista for an hour when you found me. I was—I was going to come home.” Now Cas is the one that won’t meet Dean’s eyes. “I had no idea what was here, waiting for me. If you’d be here with your family or—”  

“Cas, I’d never let that fucking monster in our house.” 

Cas’ eyes soften and Dean realizes it’s the first time he’s let himself think of it that way since he thought he might lose Cas. It makes him brave. 

He takes a deep breath and tells Cas about the night he left Kansas, about his dad’s hateful words and how they changed him, how they finally broke any loyalty he might have had remaining for John Winchester.

Today was the final nail in that coffin.

“Listen to me, I never want you to think for a second that he’s welcome here, near you, in any way. I want nothing to do with him,” Dean sits up and tugs at his hair. “God, I was so dumb, yellin’ at him but I swear, the second I realized you were gone, I was done. Told Sam I was done with him and I didn’t look back.” 

Cas sits up and scoots closer to Dean, his long leg wrapping around Dean’s hip. His fingers flutter against Dean’s chest. 

“He doesn’t get to know us,” Dean whispers into the shrinking space between them. “You’re my everything, Cas,” Dean’s lips brush against Cas’, their breath mixing. “You’re it for me.” 

Cas kisses him hard, kisses him breathless and it’s a long time before they come up for air again. 

“What happened after you came after me?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. Sam was here one time I came back, tried talking about it but I was in a hurry and honestly, didn’t give a shit. Once I knew you weren’t here, I had to get back out on the road.”

Cas stares at him. “You looked for me that entire time?” 

Dean nods. 

“Did you even eat?” 

His growling stomach gives him away, fuckin’ traitor. 

Cas’ growls back and he blushes. 

“Guess we’re both a coupla dumbasses,” Dean laments as he drags Cas outta bed, dressing them again for the second time since they got back. 

“I prefer to think we’re too trusting; less dumb, less ass.” 

“I don’t know, I’ll take  _ more _ of that ass, if I’m being honest,” Dean says as gives Cas a squeeze. 

“You’re insatiable, Officer,” Cas teases when they get downstairs. Dean props him onto the counter and when he pushes between Cas’ knees to kiss him, Cas laughs. The sound of it soothes Dean’s most frayed nerves. 

Gabe has to come out to tell them to shut up, their laughter and lightness getting a little too loud. He’s drawn to the kitchen by the smell of butter, melted cheese, and toasted bread. Dean gives him the first grilled cheese off the griddle. 

Gabe disappears into his room with his sandwich and a grin and Dean smiles when Cas slips off the island and wraps his arms around Dean’s waist. 

Soft kisses pepper his shoulders and Dean sighs, knowing they were meant to be here, in this moment, no matter how fucked the day ended up, no matter how broken their roads turned out to be, somehow it was all gonna lead to Dean cooking them grilled cheese sandwiches at two in the morning on Christmas.

This is who they are, this is where their roads meet and maybe from here on out, they can share the path. 


	32. Chapter 32

Dean finds out the next day that John is still skulking around. He also learns his little brother is kind of a badass because according to Charlie, Sam punched John in the face too after John started ranting about Dean. Charlie said after that, everyone split and Sam and Sarah went out looking for Cas. They stayed at Charlie’s last night. 

Dean wakes to a text warning him that John's back looking for him. 

“Charlie, what the fuck is happening? I’m coming over there,” Dean insists into his phone. He’s pacing between their room and the studio, trying not to disturb Cas asleep in their bed. 

“For the last time, no,” she snaps at him. “Sam is handling this.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I’m sneaking down the stairs, they’re out talking by the garage.”

Dean stops and holds his breath as he listens to Charlie breathing softly. After a beat, he can hear muffled voices. 

“Sam’s telling him to go back to Kansas,” Charlie whispers. “Your dad still wants to see you, he brought boxes.”

Dean can only imagine what kind of bullshit John found fit to cram into boxes and drive across the country. 

“Sam’s refusing to give him your address again, he’s telling John you don’t want to see him.”

_ Wait, again? _

Goddamn it, Sam. 

“Sam’s telling him if he doesn’t leave, he’s gonna go to jail,  _ shit,”  _ Dean can hear rustling. “I think that’s my cue. We told him I was a cop,” she giggles nervously. Dean loves her so much. “Hang on.”

Her voice is further away next time Dean hears it following the familiar creak of the door leading to his old garage. He’s fucking happy his Baby is still at their house. 

“Time for you to go, Mr. Winchester,” Charlie’s voice is firm. “I’m real sorry you’re such a shit human that your own sons want nothing to do with you however, that’s no one else’s problem but yours.” She continues to amaze Dean. “I hear about you in my city again,  _ John _ , you’ll definitely get slapped with a restraining order and a few nights in lock up.” 

Dean can hear his dad try to speak.

“Merry Christmas, asshole!” 

The door slamming shut ends the conversation. Dean can hear Sam and Charlie murmuring before Charlie is back on the line and Dean remembers to breathe again. 

“Dean? You still there?” 

“Yeah, Red,” he breathes out. Dean’s heart is racing. “You are a fucking badass and I bow to you.” 

“You better, your dad is scary!” she squeaks. 

“He’s just an old drunk.” Dean sighs and walks back to their bedroom. Cas is awake and sitting up in bed, his phone in his lap. It still blinks red. 

“How’s Cas? How are you?” 

Cas looks up and notices Dean in the doorway. “Think we’re gonna be ok, Charlie.” He clears his throat. “Hey, can you tell Sammy I said thanks? And I’ll call him?”

“Sure, Dean.”

“Love you, Queenie,” Dean’s voice is soft. 

“I know,” her voice sounds watery, but she giggles. “Talk later.”

Their call ends and Dean steps inside, Cas’ eyes still on him. He reaches the bed and takes Cas’ phone from his lap, switching it between his hands. 

“I’m scared to look.”

“I can clear the alerts, delete everything,” Dean offers. 

Cas thinks about it. “I’m not ready to look but I need my phone. Clear the alerts for me?”

Dean nods and presses the power button.

_ 126 Missed Calls _ __  
_ 48 Voicemails _ _  
_ __ 103 Unread Texts

Fuck. 

“That bad?” Cas winces. 

Dean hits Clear All, still shocked at the outpouring of concern over Cas’ disappearance. He wonders how many of those alerts are from him. 

“Nah, just like a few from me when I bothered to try,” he says playfully. Cas rolls his eyes and tugs Dean back into bed. 

They sequester themselves in the days leading up to New Years Eve. 

Cas stops sleeping three days after Christmas. 

Dean’s used to rolling over into a column of muscle in the middle of the night and it wakes him when the bed is empty. 

He finds Cas out in his studio, Zeppelin playing low on the speakers and Cas painting for the first time since before Christmas. It makes Dean’s heart happy, even if it’s at the expense of Cas’ sleep. 

He rubs his eyes and joins Cas in the studio, pressing a kiss to the top of Cas’ head and pulling him from his work.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, Dean,” Cas says, apology in his voice. He tips his face up to Dean’s and Dean kisses his nose. 

“Didn’t babe, whatcha workin’ on?” he asks, rubbing Cas’ shoulders. Cas rolls his head. 

“I’m not sure yet, I had a—” he clears his throat. “An unpleasant dream and in the past, painting has helped.” 

“What can I do?”

“I’m fine, Dean,” Cas assures him.

“Okay honey, I’m gonna go read for a while, if you need me.” Dean yawns. “I’ll make you some tea.” 

Dean’s scratching his belly and waiting for the water to boil when Cas wanders into their room, the paint covered shirt he was working in thrown over his bare shoulder, the music following him inside. He tosses his shirt into the hamper before he tucks himself against Dean’s back and rubs his nose against Dean’s shoulders. Dean pulls him into a hug and buries his face into Cas’ hair. He smells like paint, citrus, and their sheets, like  _ home _ and Dean can’t help but grin. 

“What?” Cas asks, his curiosity clear. 

Dean blushes. “Just thinkin’ about that sweet ass of yours,” he replies, knowing his line of thinking is a little heavy for three in the morning. 

Cas rolls his eyes and pinches Dean’s hip. He pushes off and goes to lie in the center of their bed, full on starfish. 

“Well, this is nice,” he comments. 

“I’m over here makin’ you tea and you’re reminiscing about sleeping alone? That’s some bullshit, Cas,” Dean remarks, pouring Cas’ tea over a tablespoon of lavender honey. He sets it down to cool and climbs on the bed, his head brushing the hanging scarves. 

Cas grins up at him. 

The song that’s playing ends and the familiar beat of Toto’s  _ Africa  _ pours from the speakers. Dean groans and Cas springs up from where he’s laying with a laugh. 

He remembers their drive home from dinner across the bay, this damn song coming on the radio and Cas singing it from the top of his lungs as they crossed the bridge; Dean’s talking full out Carpool Karaoke, okay. 

Dean swore Cas to secrecy after his infectious lip synching got to be too much and Dean had to join in by the second chorus. 

Now, Cas’ smile splits his face when Dean grabs his hands and spins him around, pulling him into his arms and swinging their hips together, their bare feet tangling in their sheets. 

_ “It’s gonna take gonna take a lot to take me away from you,”  _ Dean sings softly in Cas’ ear while they dance. “ _ There’s nothin’ that a hundred men or more could ever do _ .” 

Cas giggles and kisses him, pulls himself away to tease Dean and make him reach for him, Dean pulling them together again and again to kiss through the song between both of them jumping around like idiots. 

Dean dances with Cas until the song ends, Cas wrapped in his arms, neither of them moving while they catch their breath and the music fades. Cas falls back into their pillows with a grin and Dean drops to his knees, pushing Cas into a sitting position and propping him up with pillows. Cas’ laugh grows into a yawn which is great, Dean wants him to go back to sleep. The day after a night of insomnia can be tough on Cas. He passes Cas his tea with a smirk before he drops his mouth to Cas’ chest, flicking his tongue out to tease his nipple. 

Cas hums in the back of his throat. 

Dean kisses the cute little freckle on Cas’ chest he loves so much. He licks against the curve of Cas’ throat he loves so much, and the dip in his belly button, and the cut of his hip bone. 

Cas sips his tea and watches Dean with heavy-lidded eyes. Dean flicks his eyes up to meet Cas’ gaze every other kiss. 

Dean wants to wring him out, make Cas melt into the sheets with his mouth. Nothing like an amazing orgasm to knock a guy out. 

Dean takes his time, and the first time he sucks Cas all the way down, he curls his body over Dean’s head, cursing before he keens, his hips jerking, his cock hitting the back of Dean’s throat and making him gag.

Cas pulls back, murmuring apologies in Dean’s hair. Dean pulls off to mouth at the head of Cas’ cock, Cas thumbing away the tear that worked its way out of Dean’s eye. He closes his eyes and sucks Cas into his mouth, his hand working up and down the shaft with his mouth, Cas moaning and clenching his hair. 

Dean slows until Cas catches his breath and then Dean pulls him apart, sucking his cock slow, keeping his mouth wet and moaning around his shaft when it brushes the back of his throat. Fuck, Dean loves sucking Cas’ cock. 

Cas tugs his hair and growls his name, his only warning before Cas’ release floods Dean’s mouth, salty and hot. Dean swallows and drags in a breath, Cas’ musky scent flooding his nose. He sucks and swallows everything Cas gives him and he’s nothing but a whimpering mess when Dean finally pulls his mouth off, nosing at Cas’ soft cock against his hip. 

Cas’ hand rests tangled in Dean’s hair and it falls to his shoulder when Dean slides up to lie alongside Cas. He pulls the blankets over them and Cas turns into Dean’s body, humming against the curve of Dean’s neck. 

“Do you wanna fuck my mouth, Dean?” Cas asks, lazy, stretching his legs and pointing his toes like a cat. 

_ Fuck. Fuck.  _

Dean swallows and palms his cock, hard in his sweats. He tries to control his breathing before answering Cas. 

“Can I get a raincheck on that, honey? Think it’s time to sleep,” he suggests. Cas is moments away from sleep and Dean knows it. 

“You don’t want me?” 

_ Fuck, he’s so damn cute when he pouts.  _

Dean rubs his thumb along Cas’ plump bottom lip. He dreams about this mouth. 

“Always want you, baby. Always want your sweet mouth,” Dean murmurs before he tips Cas’ chin up, kissing him soft. Cas’ mouth falls open with an audible sigh and Dean loves him. 

Dean also loves waking up on New Year’s Eve to Cas downstairs making breakfast. He watches him from the doorway of their stairwell.

Cas is standing at the stove and Dean can smell eggs cooking and coffee and he sees a bowl of cheese grated next to two empty coffee cups. 

_ How the hell’d Dean end up with the greatest guy in the city making him breakfast?  _

Cas swings his hips to the music he has on, his cute butt covered in tight black briefs with white trim, one of Dean’s old Army shirts now turned crop top exposing Cas’ strong lower back and the bottom of his buddha tattoo. 

It’s not just the smell of breakfast that makes Dean’s mouth water. 

“You gonna stand there and stare at me all day, or help me?” 

Cas’ teasing rips Dean’s attention away from his ass. 

“Is that an option?” Dean asks, still distracted. 

“Maybe,” Cas tempts him. Dean steps over to slide his hands around Cas’ firm hips. Fuck, his skin is soft and Dean squeezes him. He slides his hands up to the curve of Cas’ waist. 

“Can I have you for breakfast?” Dean nibbles at the back of Cas’ neck. 

Cas shakes his head and huffs. “The one time I cook…” 

“Not my fault you’re delicious,” Dean kisses the back of Cas’ neck before he regretfully takes his hands off Cas’ hot bod to pour them some coffee. 

“You ready for a crazy New Year’s Eve babe?” He passes Cas his coffee. 

“Definitely,” Cas grins. “Baz is going to drop off some food this afternoon for us.” 

They’d been invited out; Meg and Baz were hosting something at Fable and Charlie and Gilda were going downtown to a party one of their coworkers is throwing. After the disaster that was Christmas, they’re both fine with a quiet evening in. 

Dean has a little surprise for Cas and after breakfast, he spends some time moving their comforter and some pillows to the couch downstairs. The TV is bigger and Dean wants to watch Star Wars. 

Cas goes up and down a few times too, bringing down his sketchbook and his weed kit. His last trip, he’s holding his favorite bong and chargers for their phone. Dean watches as he arranges their nest, snapping open blankets and queueing up  _ The Phantom Menace. _

“Babe,” Dean whines. “The re-boots?”

Cas answers with one word that shuts Dean right up.

“Marathon.”

Dean skips upstairs to change into his “Han Shot First” shirt, smirking at how tight it is. 

_ Cas’ll like that. _

Dean tucks a bottle of lube in his pocket and takes the stairs down, two at a time before sliding into the living room, making Cas laugh when he almost falls on his ass. 

“I’m ready babe,” Dean announces. “You ready?”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas says. He’s settled into the blankets and he pushes his glasses up his nose before he loads a bowl for them. 

Dean grabs the bags he had stashed behind the bookshelf and he holds them up. 

“Cas.”

Cas looks away from his task.

“Got a little surprise project for us while we veg,” Dean shakes the bags and hands Cas a bag before he joins him in their nest. Cas pulls out the flat boxes inside his package. 

Dean grins and unpacks his, matching brown boxes followed by a gorgeous album with a blank white cover. The date of the day they met is stamped in the lower left corner.

_ Est. March 1, 2017 _

Cas opens the lid on one box and his head snaps up, his eyes wide. He looks back down at the open box and pulls out the stack of photos inside. 

Picture after picture of the two of them slip between Cas’ fingers. Pictures from their hikes, pictures from countless photo walks they took. One box has pictures from Cas’ first baseball game and another is filled with pictures from Tahoe; photos of Cas painting, of the sunsets and beautiful landscapes of the lake. 

Cas’ eyes are filled with tears the next time he looks back at Dean. 

“What is all this?” 

“It’s us.” Dean shrugs. “Remember when I took off the other day? Met up with Max about getting these printed. Stopped at Mendel’s on my way home and, ta-da,” Dean gestures. He pulls one more small bag out and passes it to Cas. It holds one more box and a smaller album, this one with a silver clasp holding it shut. 

“For the naughty album,” Dean whispers and Cas cracks up. His shoulders shake and he laughs, his head thrown back, the long, beautiful column of his throat moving against his laughter. 

Dean leans in and mouths at Cas’ Adam’s Apple, making him choke back his laugh. He’s all but forgotten about the scrapbooks, his mouth keeping him busy while he licks and sucks at Cas’ neck. Dean’s settled between his legs, Cas’ hand in his hair and he has one leg hooked over Dean’s ass. 

“Common. Space. Gentleman!” 

_ Fucking Gabe. _

Dean bites into Cas’ neck before he turns his attention to Gabe. Who’s standing at the foot of the couch with  _ Dean’s _ little brother next to him. Sarah’s behind them, making a fresh pot of coffee. 

“Look who I found downstairs,” Gabe announces.

It’s the first time Dean’s seen Sam since Christmas Day. 

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean says before he presses his forehead to Cas’ chest for a moment. He sits up and stacks the boxes of photos. “Hi Sarah!” 

Sarah waves from the kitchen. 

It’s not like he hasn’t talked to Sam, they talked for a good hour, day after Christmas. They didn’t talk about John, even if Dean knew Sam was dying to. Dean should have known Sam would come knocking. 

“Happy New Year, guys,” Sam nods at Cas. “Feeling better?” 

Cas grins at him. “I have the best nurse,” he announces. 

“All right, all right, I’ll take your temperature after everyone leaves,” Dean rolls his eyes fondly. 

Sam looks down at his feet but not before Dean sees him smiling. The sigh he heaves lifts his shoulders. “Can we talk, Dean?” 

Sarah presses a cup of coffee into Sam’s hand and passes another to Dean. He smiles gratefully and nods at his nervous little brother. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” he suggests. 

Dean takes them up to the roof, flipping on the white fairy lights and space heater set up near the table. Cas’ hive sits quiet in the corner, the bees hibernating through the winter. Dean knows way too much about fuckin’ bees now but Cas loves them, calls the Queen a “thorny beauty.” 

Dean was really proud of him for that pun. 

It’s cloudy and grey out but it’s not supposed to rain again until next week. Dean misses the sun.

“So, what’s up?” Dean asks, settling down to sip his coffee. 

“I wanna talk about dad.”

“Okay,” Dean stares at him. “Talk.”

Sam raises an eyebrow and Dean takes another drink. 

“Fine. I’m sorry,” Sam's voice is stiff. “I had no idea he’d show up here.”

“What were you thinking, man?” Dean shakes his head. “Giving him my address? That really wasn’t cool.”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious.” 

“Look—I had no idea—I never knew Dad was—”  

“The word you’re looking for is homophobe.” 

Sam puts his mug down harder than Dean likes. “How can you just say that so casually, Dean? And why didn’t you ever tell me what happened when you left Lawrence?” 

The day after Christmas, Charlie asked Dean if she could tell Sam what happened, said he was going out of his mind thinking he’d upset Dean. Dean figured it was easier than having to have that conversation himself. 

“I should have, you’re right,” Dean concedes. “But to be fair, I thought I had time.” He looks at Sam pointedly. 

Sam crosses his arms. “And if you didn’t wait, I’d never have given Dad your address!” 

_ Fuck, they’ll do this all day if Dean lets them.  _

“Fine,” he spits out. “We both fucked up.” 

Sam glares for another minute before he gives it up, his shoulders dropping. He wraps his hands around his mug. One of Sam's knuckles is scabbed over where it split. The sight of it makes Dean proud.

_ Maybe he did ok after all. _

“I brought those boxes. They’re downstairs.”

“Any idea what’s in them?”

“Clothes, mostly.” Sam takes a drink. “Some books, think I saw a few uniforms.”

_ Cas is gonna love that. _

“What do you think he wanted, Dean? He never really said.”

“Because he didn’t have a reason other than to fuck with me.”

“But,  _ why _ ?” 

Dean shakes his head. How can he make Sam understand that it’s always been this way between him and his dad. That no matter what the fuck Dean did, no matter how little he complained, Dean never felt good enough. 

“It’s just always been rotten, man, I don’t know what else to tell you.” Dean’s eyes drift up to the art Cas finished a few weeks before the rain started. He painted his bridge into a mural of golds and reds that bleed into a lush garden, green and full of colors for all the flowers he painted. Below it, Cas printed one of Dean’s favorite quotes, “The hardest thing in life to learn is which bridge to cross, and which to burn.” 

Seems fitting.

“I meant what I said,” Dean taps the table so Sam will look at him. He’s been staring daggers at his coffee cup for five minutes. “He doesn't get to be in my life.”

Sam’s fighting back tears. 

“Cas is too special, man,” Dean shakes his head. “My life with him—our life? It’s  _ good _ , Sam and I’m not gonna let that hateful asshole ruin it.” 

The tears spill down Sam’s cheeks. 

“Cas deserves the best,” Dean whispers. “I gotta try—I gotta do my best by him, Sam.” 

Sam nods and looks out over the city. Dean follows his gaze, appreciating the low fog that hangs in the hills behind them, the sky gray and looking angrier by the minute. 

“I told him not to contact me.” 

The statement weighs heavy between them. 

“You didn’t have to—”  

“You really think I’m gonna let him in my life after this? After how he treated you and Cas? No fuckin’ way, Dean.” Sam swipes furiously at his cheeks. “You’re more of a father than he ever was and now there’s no way I’d want him near us, near you guys.” He picks up his mug as a distraction and it’s empty. 

Tension drains from Dean's shoulders and he wasn't even aware how heavy this thing between him and Sam had been weighing on him. It wasn't like he didn't think Sam would understand but Dean's always found it best to be cautious. 

“Thanks, Sammy, appreciate that,” Dean collects their mugs. “We good?”

“You tell me,” Sam peers up at him when Dean stands like he doesn’t want to move until Dean answers him.

“You know we are,” Dean pushes the door open and swings his head for Sam to go inside. “You guys wanna stay and watch Star Wars?” 

“Dude, you guys are watching Phantom Menace.”

“Marathon,” Dean nods slowly with a twist of his lips and Sam smirks but shakes his head. 

“Nah, Sarah wants to get on the road in case the rain starts up again.” 

The S’s are going back to Tahoe for a few days before school starts again. They invited Dean and Cas and Sam offers again, which Dean declines. 

“We’re good. We’ve got movies to watch, scrapbooking to do, and lots and lots of sex to have,” he says cheerfully to Sam’s back while they go back downstairs. He laughs at Sam’s shudder. 

Cas and Sarah are laughing over some photos Dean printed and Dean sees him tuck a few of her and Sam into her bag before they leave. Apparently, the two of them made plans while the brothers were upstairs and they’re all having dinner when Sam and Sarah get back from Tahoe. 

“You can make spaghetti,” Cas states. 

“Oh can I?” 

“Fuck yeah,” Sam high fives Cas. 

_ Oh, a team-up—just what Dean needs. _

“Thought you were tryin’ to get on the road,” Dean reminds Sam loudly. 

Dean’s happy to walk them downstairs, their Zipcar sitting out front. Sam waves out the window as they pull away. The air is crisp and cool against Dean’s face. There isn’t many people out thanks to the holiday and Dean breathes in deep through his nose; the air smells clean, like winter.

Like new beginnings. 

A fat, freezing raindrop lands on Dean’s forehead and he shuts his eyes, letting a few more fall and cleanse him before he goes back in, shutting their front door tight. 

When Dean gets back upstairs, he finds Cas in their nest, surrounded by photos and the open album, one page already filled. Gabe’s leaning over the back of the sofa, hitting Cas’ bong and pointing at one of the pictures, Cas laughing at whatever he’s pointing at. It makes Gabe laugh, too. 

Dean can’t help it when he takes his phone out and snaps a picture. 

He takes the fresh pot of coffee Sarah made before they left and carries it to the couch, Cas smiling up at him when he tops off his mug. 

“Gabe?” Dean holds up the pot of coffee.

Gabe holds his cup out. “Thanks, Dean-o. Was just telling Cassie here that I’m gonna get cleaned up and then get out of your hair for the night. Goin’ over the Kali’s.” He wiggles his eyebrows with a leer. “She wants to tie me up tonight.”

_ Christ. _

“Wear a condom,” Dean calls out to his retreating back. “Please don’t procreate,” he mutters. 

Cas bubbles over with laughter. He peppers kisses to Dean’s throat and cheeks until he stops laughing. 

“Hello, Dean,” he says with a nuzzle to Dean’s jaw. Dean’s always wanted a cat. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean replies. He kisses Cas’ forehead. 

“Everything okay?” 

Cas always asks the simplest questions that hide so much meaning. He wants to know about Dean and Sam’s talk. 

“I should have told him,” Dean sighs. 

“I don’t like to say I told you so but—”  

Dean cuts Cas off with a kiss. A few kisses. 

A lot of kisses, what does it matter, they don’t have anywhere to be. 

“You love to tell me that,” he murmurs against Cas’ soft, swollen mouth. “You love me.” 

“I do,” Cas answers and Dean’s heart feels full. 

***

It’s five minutes to midnight and Dean's head is resting in Cas’ lap. Cas’ hand is tangled in Dean’s hair, his fingers occasionally scratching his scalp. They stopped scrapbooking hours ago and then passed the time wrapped around each other. 

It’s their kind of perfect day. 

“Got any resolutions, babe?”

Cas blinks down at him, a slow easy smile spreading across his face. He brushes the hair off Dean's forehead. 

“I just want us to have a weird, wonderful life together, honeybee.”

Cas is everything Dean wants. 

“Me too,” Dean shuts his eyes but grins when Cas leans down to kiss him. “Me too, Cas.”

When the clock strikes midnight, Cas kisses him and Dean can feel their ever after. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is them. I really hope you've enjoyed them and their love story and how sometimes it just takes one person to love you, to see you and sometimes that can make all the difference if you let it.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought and if you're so inclinded, I'd love for you to say hello on [Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/casloveshisfreckles) We can talk about this fic, destiel, cockles, or you know, your favorite ramen place. ;) 
> 
> Happy DCBB 2018!

**Author's Note:**

> [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/0ylTAunsVSy26yWf5LzqH3?si=n2eLv1LTTDut_sBnuhwxEw)   
>  [Fic Glossary](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DnYWhl9mBLeMxbM8Al2-_IKG2Nj4snfT_Uftn4tk3lI/edit?usp=sharing)


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